So lately I havent been sleeping. And by that I mean, I haven't been able to fall asleep until after four in the morning. And I wake up by seven. I lay on the couch, and watch movies. TV shows. Read books I have already read a hundred times. I take showers, and change my pajamas. I let the dogs inside, and outside, and inside again. I check my email, my facebook and whatever else I can think of. Sleep keeps escaping me.
While I sit up at night, not sleeping, feeling my eyes get puffy and red, feeling wrinkles set into my skin, I think. I think about all the parts of my life. You know, the main things: Money, Love, Family, Sex and personal development. Where all these things have been and where they are and where they might go. I think and think and think until I should be absolutely exhausted. Until I should be able to drop into a coma like sleep and not emerge until some at least one season has come and gone. But nothing. Not even a heavy eyelid, or a yawn.
Lately, I have been thinking alot about love. Love seems to occupy my mind like a foreign army. Marching around and putting up flags. Claiming territories in my mind that once belonged to idle thoughts about mundane nothingness. Love takes up any free space there is or was, and occasionally forces out useful ideas and helpful thought processes and barges in with its hearts and flowers and sappy music.
I am starting to hate thoughts about love. I am beginning to hate this merry go round I have been riding for a year and a half, that seems to only become more convoluted and unclear with each passing day. At least there once was a time when affection was clearly evident, and I at least knew for sure that I charmed my halfway sweetheart. Now I cannot decipher affection from lust, or true amoration from tolerance, or desire and passion from comfort. Somedays I think he cant stand me. He barely looks at me, talks dryly and keeps his hands to himself. Somedays I am certain he adores me, as he kisses me, and laughs at my jokes. But that warmth in his gaze, those loving turns of phrase, the sweet tiny gestures, they have yet to return. And I am left open mouthed and wanting.
I am so tired of thoughts about love, and the never ending question
"He loves me, he loves me....not."