Memories in Midnight’s Haze

Questions. Always you’ve had questions. Your curiosity was part of what attracted me in the very beginning. I loved it. I still do. But I have a funny way of showing it. Rather than indulge in answers, I torture you by my refusals. I don’t mean to. I just get frustrated by my inability to respond, and you’re a much easier target for my irritation. Despicable, I know. But you give as well as you get.

Tonight won’t be any better, I fear. I’m too tired. You know that. And I know you’re tired, too. But I know also that you’re still awake, out there in the dark. Looking for dreams but fearing the bed; it’s all we really do.

I know what we just went through. It was beautiful. It was a long time coming, and it was something I’ll most likely remember forever. I’d like to think that you will as well. Our anticipation was not in vein. But what did we expect? Good memories will not diminish our separation, and we lack the means or the will to diminish it ourselves. I suppose that’s our answer, but that seems much too harsh in this late-hour gloom. So let’s keep the possibility alive, for now, and maybe salvage some sleep from this wreckage of a night.