Actually the light is barely breaking through.
I keep hoping that if I could just sleep. In my own bed. In my own house. Really sleep. It would all be alright.
I keep hoping that the hole that I can't seem to fill would just go away as I sleep. Or maybe it's not the sleeping. Maybe it's everything else.
Maybe it's missing my grandma. Or the boy. Or the possibility of another boy. Or my camera. Or my feeling of safety.
I don't want to go to work. I have to. I have no choice. No time off. Too much to do. But I don't really get anything done.
I don't really want to see my friends. I have to. Plans that can't be broken. But I don't really feel like I'm there. Conversations go by that I can barely recall.
I don't want to workout. I have to. Despite the pain in my hip. I'm (stupidly) doing a triathlon in six days. But I'm not really sure I can do it.
There's nothing I really feel like doing.
TheDog absolutely insisted I take her on a walk tonight. It helped. For a while. But the darkness settled back in. The dread of going to work tomorrow. The dread of having to put on a happy face for friends.
I had really hoped my sleep problem would be solved today. I was very much looking forward to crawling between the sheets of my own bed in my own house and sleeping. All night.
There was a mix-up. I now have to wait a few more days. But maybe in a few days I can sleep. And the darkness will evaporate as I do.