Why
does life seem to hate my joy? The only time that I'm happy
is when I'm sleeping. It takes away all the pain, misery, all
the bad things in life. And then there's the
nightmares. Why? Why does life have to be so mean? I
thought love was supposed to be so much better. Movies and books
just set the bar way to high. Last night I dreamt that the person
I love was dying. I was sitting next to him in the hospital. And
I was watching him slowly die. And then I woke up at 5:55. I
haven't woken up anytime before 11 in a very long time. So
now what? I just sit here. Another day.
Without him.
