Monday 8 August 2016

88

Tonight I can't sleep. There's no one around to ask if I'm okay, and no one I can tell. I can't sleep. The truth seems hypocritical sitting amongst the words I've spoken. I can't help thinking everything would be less complicated if we could be truthful with ourselves. I turn that question over around to myself and ask if I could handle the truth to begin with. Facing the truth means coming to terms with the fact that I'm as replaceable as anybody else and that the ones you wake up at 3 in the morning thinking about may not be craving your closeness. Truth is I don't know and truth is this isn't a question I can answer on my own. But for now, I just can't seem to fall asleep.

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