my heavy head is full of debris.

this is the third night i've sat cross-legged, with a blanket over my head to shield the light of my laptop from his sleeping eyes. from the outside i imagine i look like a tent. from the inside i imagine the light illuminates only the exhaustion in my eyes. i feel so separated in here. the sound of the fan keeps me grounded, because otherwise i don't know where i would feel like i was.

tonight i felt his touch but my mind would not acknowledge it. i was miles away. my vacancy tangibly surfaced, uninvited. we were in each others arms but i'm unsure of where i was. for a second i thought i had begun to recite lyrics in my head, or maybe i had started to silently question if it was raining outside. i wondered if he was aware that my mind was elsewhere, and if maybe his was elsewhere too. i wondered if he could somehow notice just by being near me, or that he could somehow see it in my eyes, but it was much too dark to tell. the only light i could faintly see was from the moon, creating shadows and shapes in the corner of the ceiling. he seemed so tangible, and when he spoke to me i responded but i don't think i can recall what i had said in return. in the midst of my happy day, i started to feel overcome with sadness.

i'm unsure i can sleep tonight. at times i regret that my mind has such a capacity for spontaneous thought processes. these are the nights i wish i wasn't afraid of the dark. i need fresh air, i crave to see the stars. now i can only pray for a headache tonight. the headaches that exists behind the eyes, and creep around to every part of your neck and head, until sleep becomes mandatory.