I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, and it’s made me very lonely. Well, lonelier than usual.
There was a time when 3AMs were intentional to me, because there was somebody to visit there. Somebody to talk to, somebody to listen. I don’t know if we’ve grown older or we’ve grown apart, but these days there is nobody. All the voices are miniscule and cowardly. Nobody dares disturb the universe, not like we used to.
When I am wishing for someone, I am washed over with nostalgia and an image of the universe. I have never seen the universe the way it sees me, but I imagine this expanse of darkness and light, like little creatures birthed purely to paint the skies a new tone or hue every second of their lives. It’s so alive, and I don’t even know what it’s made of. I wish I had somebody to tell me.
There are times I ask many people to describe me with a color, and most answers are true to people who love me every day. But there was a boy who did not love me, and he decided that I was opal. He said it was the color of the universe, and from where he could see it, it was always moving.
There were times when I asked the universe to give me a boy like this, even just for my lonely 3AMs, but his 3AMs are always somebody else. He is looking for somebody else: somebody who always looks a lot like me, but almost never is.
There was once a boy who tried. We had a fight about my flights of fancy, and on the ride home he thought about death. He thought about losing people and where they go when you do. It brought tears to his eyes and I loved and hated him all the same. He was 6AM, he was trying, and we were both still lonely.
I have two hearts. They do not agree.