On the bad nights, I still cry my self to sleep.
On the good nights, or just every night it is, I suppose, I still hug my pillow tightly, pretending it's something real, that it's something substantial, that it's holding me back and I am not alone.
I am very much alone.
I wake from dreams, startled, drenched in a sweat I can't recall having created. I can't recall the sleep, but my sheets are warm to the touch and I can't imagine that a restless body lying awake at night could've generated such heat from just lying still. I must have been tossing and turning and kicking.
My tangled bedsheets are falling off the bed - which is too far off the ground anyway, and it is all I can do to reclaim them. They refuse to lie flat, straight and untwisted, the way sheets should lie, so instead, I just let them be a vauge and confused covering that keeps me from being naked and unsheltered while I sleep.
Except I am. I guess. I am very much alone, I am very much unsheltered and though I am wearing my pajama pants and requisite college t shirt, I am naked. Exposed. There. That Girl. She's alone. She doesn't really want to be. She's Alone Against Her Will.
Maybe someday, someone will make a band and call it that and it will be really cool. And the people in the band will get a lot of play from random chicks they meet on tour and pretty soon, they willl only be alone because if you're getting lots of random play, it's only socially acceptable to be alone.
On nights like this, I come home from parties. The people are fuzzy and I think I may have said silly things, but it is ok. I am drunk and young and single and in college, and this is, I think, vaugely how they say it is supposed to go. Big nebulous crowds of people -- the random faces I know here and there and the slurred greetings. Hey, how are you. Whassup. Dude!
And then I dance my heart out and my ass off and I come home, not as drunk as I was, and I have remarkable accuracy in hitting the keys and putting together email addresses and html tags, even when God -- if he were truly a benevolent figure -- ought to prevent me from doing such. And I write stupid things that make no sense and sometimes hurt people. Cause I hurt.
And I really should not be so ridiculously melodramatic because then I may have to hurt myself.
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