"Hi, this is Sandra. Sorry, I couldn't get to the phone. Leave a message." Her joyful voice booms through the phone.
It's past 4:30 in the morning and I haven't slept yet. I've spent the majority of the night calling Sandra's phone and wallowing in my own stench and self pity.
I haven't gotten out of the bed in three days but I haven't slept in it either. Nights don't mean sleep to me anymore. Nights mean hours spent staring at the walls, thinking about how many different ways I can die. Nights mean numb limbs sinking into the cold mattress but never feeling comfortable. Nights mean thousands of thoughts swimming through my head, bouncing off of my skull, shouting about how everything is my fault and that I'm really the worthless piece of shit that everyone plays me out to be. I can't even remember when nights meant sleep to me. Nights are just another reminder of how completely and terribly alone I am.
I call Sandra again.
"Hi, this is Sandra. Sorry, I couldn't get to the phone. Leave a message."
I hang up without leaving a message.
She won't get the chance to hear it anyway.
YOU ARE READING
3 AM
Romancein•som•ni•a /in'sämnēa/ Noun Habitual sleeplessness;inability to sleep. Emotional disorders that can cause insomnia include depression, anxiety, and posttraumatic stress disorder. ••• Unable to come to terms with th...
