At One a.m.

I've been suffering from insomnia for almost a year now. I'm certain I know what's causing it, but it's not something I can share...with anyone, really. Instead, I accept the 3, 4, 5 hours of sleep afforded to me with the aid of sleeping pills prescribed by my doctor. Except for getting through the next day, insomnia is not so bad. I do laundry, clean my kitchen, and I write. I keep a notebook by my bed to capture my dreams while they are still fresh in my head. And often, inspiration strikes and I wind up with sad and beautiful words such as these...and nothing to do with them but to send them anonymously into cyberspace...and hope that, perhaps, the right eyes will read them and understand.
~
At one a.m. I lie here, dreamless; the drugs that weigh me to my bed do naught to heavy my eyelids or quiet the thoughts circling my mind.

At one a.m. I think of you, to wonder if I crossed your mind as you drifted off to sleep. If you would leave your dreams to visit mine, as you have so often done before.

At one a.m. I can speak the words I swore I’d never say aloud. They echo in my mind each moment I stare into your soulful eyes and at times, it’s all I can do not to blurt them out.

At one a.m. I whisper them softly and your reply, however imagined, warms my heart to the point of bursting. My knees weaken as you reach for me, my lips burning for yours.

At one a.m. I have you to myself. There are no interruptions…no surprise visitors…no guilt, no fear. Only you….No. Only me. I am alone.

At one a.m. I am struck to tears by the realization. Without you, I sigh and understand that slumber will elude me still. Left wanting that I should not want. Needing what I mustn’t need. Loving whom I cannot have.

At one a.m. I can want. I can need. I can love. If only then. If only me. If only.

At one a.m.