I don’t care to be awake right now. I honestly don’t understand why the majority of the population sleeps, as is natural, while I, alone and wide awake, sit here in silence and cover of night. This night shift is brutal. My biological clock leaves a buzzing in my ear every morning when I go to sleep and every evening when I rise. This is taking its toll on me. Hopefully, as the weeks and months pass, I’ll become accustomed to this new routine.

I miss her.

Back-breaking labor has never been kind. I hear my very bones creak and moan in distress. Though I feel little pain during my conscious hours, I know of the hardships that my body endures. It arises in my dreams. While I sleep, my body releases its pains, passing them to my mind like a message. My muscles bear a warning to not stretch myself too thin, but alas, I will not heed. This pain is necessary, if I’m ever to see her again.

Why did she have to go?

That night was cold. I remember standing on the drive, barefoot and broken. She said that I was nothing and that I was worthless. She called me names and shouted curses, so loud they seemed to shake the heavens. I can recall every word she said. And they were all true. She drove away and I’ve since seen her only in my nightmares. Every dream now, however beautiful and bright, is sad. Every fond memory is wraught with despair. The once tender moments we’ve shared are like ruins in my mind. But never fading.

I wonder if she’s forgotten me. She once said she’d never forget me. But, then again, she also said she’d never leave. At times, I question her statement. There are days where I truly believe that she has ripped the pages of me from her mind. I sometimes think that she has already found another and is already sharing with him the beautiful things she had once shared with only me.

But, part of me remains hopeful. I pray that one day, she’ll return. This is why I force myself to through each day, working harder and harder at everything I do so that maybe, when she comes back, she will see that I have changed and that I am a better man for her than I was. I’ve given up my vices. No drink sustains me, for I thirst only for her. There is no smoke nor card game nor whore that can dissuade me from her. I crave nothing now, but her.

Once-friends have said that I am beaten, that I am broken, for altering as I have. But these once-friends are still being tormented by bill collectors. I am not. These once-friends still stumble down the avenues drunk and displeased with life. I do not. For her, I am altered; because of her, I am better.

She’ll come back and I will keep her this time.


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