Here's an example
One of the snakes is coiled on its fake branch beside me like a piece of rope on a ship's deck. Not menacingly, but peaceful.
One of the things about insomnia - my brand at least - is that it's often easier to sleep anywhere but your own bed.
I fell asleep earlier on the couch as Christa was getting ready to go to dance practice in Fergus. Some of the people from dance were coming to pick her up, so me being zonked wasn't a concern. Which is good since this was sleep of the dead type sleep.
She kissed me on the cheek when she was ready, but I was so out of it I barely registered anything. She then got up to go.
Then out of the murk comes one coherent thought, that this might be the night. The one where she doesn't come home because of an accident. The one where I get a phone call from a police officer that changes everything forever. And if that call came my last memory would be a hazy sight of her from the couch while I was all but unconscious and unable to say goodbye properly.
Knowing I'm paranoid and not able to do anything else, I clawed my way up off the couch and lurched over to the door. I wanted to say be careful, but how stupid would that be?
"Here to lock the door behind me?" she asked.
"No," I said. "I'm here to say goodbye."
Then I hugged her, told her I loved her and gave her a kiss goodbye. She smiled, said she loved me too and was gone.
I know I'm being paranoid, that chances are she'll be back, but god damn it, what if she's not?
One of the things about insomnia - my brand at least - is that it's often easier to sleep anywhere but your own bed.
I fell asleep earlier on the couch as Christa was getting ready to go to dance practice in Fergus. Some of the people from dance were coming to pick her up, so me being zonked wasn't a concern. Which is good since this was sleep of the dead type sleep.
She kissed me on the cheek when she was ready, but I was so out of it I barely registered anything. She then got up to go.
Then out of the murk comes one coherent thought, that this might be the night. The one where she doesn't come home because of an accident. The one where I get a phone call from a police officer that changes everything forever. And if that call came my last memory would be a hazy sight of her from the couch while I was all but unconscious and unable to say goodbye properly.
Knowing I'm paranoid and not able to do anything else, I clawed my way up off the couch and lurched over to the door. I wanted to say be careful, but how stupid would that be?
"Here to lock the door behind me?" she asked.
"No," I said. "I'm here to say goodbye."
Then I hugged her, told her I loved her and gave her a kiss goodbye. She smiled, said she loved me too and was gone.
I know I'm being paranoid, that chances are she'll be back, but god damn it, what if she's not?
If we all ever have a drive-yourself-crazy contest, dude, you're going to win.
I think I'll be a strong second though.
Posted by
Ian |
Thursday, June 15, 2006 9:14:00 p.m.
i know what you mean aaron...
'living each day like it's your last' doesn't seem to cut it anymore... at least, not to us hyperactive thinkers...
perhaps we should change it to 'live each instant like it's your last'...
anyway.. my fear is even more founded because every time i say goodbye to anna, one of us has an hour and a half drive ahead of us... it'd be different if she (or I) lived blocks apart (or even in the same area).....
but i'm paranoid until I get the call from her to tell me she made it home safely.. then i can sleep...
Posted by
Eldorado |
Thursday, June 15, 2006 11:58:00 p.m.
Winning's still winning, right?
Posted by
Aaron Jacklin |
Friday, June 16, 2006 10:37:00 a.m.
Yeah, it is, but at least you're driving yourself nuts over important things. If we had some sort of consolation for getting worked up over completely meaningless, insignificant things, there's no way you'd beat me.
Posted by
Ian |
Friday, June 16, 2006 12:41:00 p.m.