3:09 am

I’ve been tossing and turning all night. When I realized that sleep had no intentions of consuming me anytime soon, I glanced over at the slow-ticking clock. 3:09 am. These are the hours that invite an uneasy discrepancy between mind and matter. Usually during these faint hours of the night my mind is strenuously engaged- absorbed in reflection over the most baroque uncertainties.But as my eyes centered on those three luminous numbers, my first thought was you. What are you doing? Does sleep still escape you during these hushed hours of the night because the stars and the moon are running your imagination wild? What exactly is going through that beautiful mind of yours? Remember all those late nights?

{I promise…… I do.}

These hours were always our own. We seemed to share in on them more often than not. Everything was quiet and still, but us- we were an energetic force electrifying the still atmosphere encompassing us. The shadows that were cast among us acted as our own private safe haven, sheltering us from all of our mistakes and worries. It was just you and I- all of our achingly frivolous dilemmas aside. I can still hear the soft humming of running electric and the slow dripping of your aquarium tank. But what I hear most is silence. Not that heavy silence that makes you cringe in discomfort or the kind that leaves you biting at your lip- nothing of that sort. It’s the type of silence that screams at the top of its lungs- a beautiful and intense silent connection that we shared with our eyes, with our hands, and with our souls. You and I.

I miss the way the shadows carefully fell on your deep-seated brown eyes. Always so worried, those eyes of yours. But when you looked at me…… I swear. I could finally breathe. How is it possible for me to be so overwhelmed with ease when my heart is hammering a vigorous rhythm- clamoring to be heard? Those familiar shadows that we take so much comfort in obscure the reality of these dim, muffled hours. There is only so much time before the sun begins heaving out fragments of light- stealing away our covert and complacent refuge. Who will we be when the darkness is gone?

It’s 3:09 am and my mind is nothing less than chaotic- a tangled mess of everything you. I can hear the soothing sound of your voice echoing from ear to ear. Do you ever think about how it could have been?

{I promise………. I do.}

-m.w

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