“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” Oscar Wilde

The insomnia is largely my fault.  I am exhausted, mentally and physically, I can barely keep my eyes open.  But when I crawl into bed (new expensive hotel-type mattress delivered Saturday) I spiral out in my head.  Random thoughts fill my head – about the colleague of mine who’s wife died this weekend, and I did not even know she was sick; about the girl in Starbucks this morning who was talking to her friend about how she loves James Patterson = I could not even contain my disdain even though anyone with access to my Goodreads timeline knows that I sometimes read complete shit and I am fairly sure she saw me roll my eyes  and then I felt like a bitch, the guy behind me who ordered a frigging ham breakfast sandwich which threw me back into a pitying sadness that lasted all morning.

Does everyone believe that they will have their life together by now?  I can’t be the only person who dwells on my faults and losses, and sometimes ignores all the wonderful things and people that are in my life.  I focus instead on the one person I don’t have in my life right now, and how I’ve thwarted the communication they have sent even while second guessing myself to go flying back into a relationship that often made me feel like I was Jack trying to out-manipulate Ben.  Sorry if I swerved wildly off course with the Lost allegory, but as I mentioned earlier… I feel like I am one of W’s detainees in Guantanamo being kept awake as a form of torture.  Please make it stop.

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