There is something about 2 am and sleeplessness, they both go well just like rum and coke, which I am on the third shot of by the way. It is 3:26 am now and all I can think about is how my mind is going in spirals, of course, the downward one. I don’t know what is with us, our generation that we zoom out on the lens of life through the day and zoom in on every possible mistake we made in our existence during the midnight hour and ponder over it.
There is a timeline to this overthinking frenzy, at 12:00 I’m in my bed and scrolling one last time through my Instagram, waiting for a good night text from my latest muse and I’m on the brink of sleep as my phone screen blinks to life with a notification. Next thing you know I’m no longer lying on the bed but discussing perks of dating with a random stranger who I don’t care about.
The clock strikes 1 before I know it, the discussion gets interesting and before I know it, I’m baring my heart almost open to a stranger, forgetting for a fleeting moment about the unrequited love which made me download that stupid app in the first place. Now it's too late, 1:45 am I have already started brewing the tea while I mindlessly continue the conversation, the pain making me numb and disregardful of the conversation, my mind rewinding the conversation with my muse and my fingers toggling between apps to check for new messages. No, not that lucky tonight.
Before I know it, the tea has been thrown in the sink, the pain commanding me now and to shut down the pain I already have made myself the classic rum and coke. As I feel the delicate burn of the alcohol piercing through my throat, the memories come back of the days when I was truly happy the fleeting memory of being in the arms of the person, who I thought loved and wanted me. My fingers are dying to type out “I love you; I need you. Please hold me, please save me from the pain,” but a meek “Hi,” is all I can manage. Time slows down as I sip on the remainder of my drink, minutes painfully ticking away, each tick on the clock making it harder for sanity to keep its grip and easier for me to let go to the pain and alcohol. Something about this combination makes me surprisingly confident and stupid, “ I love you,” the combination makes me type, the almost instant notification on my screen makes me jump with joy but it is replaced by that pokey feeling inside the chest again as the message opens to, “I’m sorry but I love someone else.” Classic. The last sip of the rum and coke burns a new pain through my chest.
Half drooping, half crying, I switch on my laptop after ages to pour out the pain, and before you know it’s 3:26 am again, a new cycle of pain and heartbreak again. A new cycle indeed as this pain gave me the strength to furiously write, write till my fingers hurt again all the pain I feel inside now coming out on the screen as words which I can’t read through my tear-filled eyes and soon the pain subsides, the weight of sorrow and loss gulps me again makes my fingers freeze on the keyboard, hit delete to all my feelings and wake up smiling at 8 again only to be heartbroken by 3:26 am again.
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by yours
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