I can’t sleep. It’s nearly 2 in the morning and all I can do is stare at the ceiling and listen to the empty house. I feel nothing but space and it is crushing me. All of this damned space. There’s a draft despite the insulation. I cry when I’m not sad… there’s just nothing else I can do.
I don’t even know what that means… it’s some obscure mantra the repeats over and over and over in my head. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t.
I am dark because the night is dark. I am cold because the night is cold. I am empty because this space is empty.
There is no concept of time here. The clock moves and the numbers change but everything around me stays the same. Seconds shift seamlessly into months and I can’t tell which is which any more. Am I feeling a moment or experiencing an eternity?
When the weight of the vacuum deprives my heart of sustenance and I finally succumb, will I wake up and find something more? I want to roll over and find warmth.
Is this what I asked for… my new life sought so desperately… am I really here again?