lots on my mind, so naturally last night I was visited by the ghost of friends past. because some friends, whether they are still friends or not, are the only ones we want to tell our secrets to.
as much as we have them, and I don’t really have a lot of them. not the kind you might be interested in. well, anyway, I think I unspilled a lot of things at once, things that I would have only said to her. sometimes she visits me like this, struggling to sleep in bed next to two sound asleep bodies, and we talk awhile. and in the morning I’m looser.
even though i’m almost always kind of tired now, i find it hard to sleep. last night i wasn’t so tired, but my mind felt achey and burdened and i lay awake until past 3, watching Ava toss and turn, staring at the ceiling, conversing with ghosts.
it doesn’t help that on the floor of our bedroom, which refuses to be tidy, there is an upturned bag of old letters, photographs, journals…you name it, it’s there. awful, awful teenage writing. awful not-teenage writing.
so sometimes i let The Worry get ontop of me. you know, whatever it is, it just becomes magnified, and i can feel myself getting apocalyptic about it. i find it hard to step back, take a breath, remind myself it’ll be fine, or distract myself with anything else.
like the sewing machine next door, finally here, waiting to be used, waiting to do its job, but not tonight, in this mood. distractions fail.
except, maybe this, which is just so funny that i have cried several times reading it. really, tears, pain in my sides kind of laughter.
tonight, as she says, I’m going to sleep through the worry.