Author's Note: There was a time in my life when I used to write almost every day. I used to write a lot, until late into the night. I loved it, it gave me some sort of purpose. Then, a lot things changed and I stopped writing quite as much. It got to the point where I wasn't writing anything at all any more and at one stage I thought I might never write again. I just couldn't find the part of me that lived and breathed for the written word. But, I think, I've found that part of me again, hopefully. I'm feeling a strong sense of fulfilment at finding the time to write, even if I only end up penning a handful of words. I've never made it a habit to post much of my writing on this blog but that was mainly due to the fact that I used to write m/m slash fiction and that's not everyone's cup of tea, I guess. It's still something I really enjoy writing as well as reading, but for the time being I've no plans to share any of it on my blog. For now, I'd like to share some random stuff I come up, let's see where it'll take me. One thing is for sure, writing fiction has always been one of my true loves, otherwise it wouldn't feel so right picking it up again. Enough of my rambling, here's my most recent attempt at producing something (that is hopefully) intelligible. I've no idea where I'm going with this idea, I'm happy to just let it run wild.
I guess it’s just me and the moon tonight, I muse, as I stroll down the familiar street, the very same one on which we first met. There isn’t a single soul anywhere in sight, and not a single car to be heard, which feels strange. Especially in a city with a population of close to ten million. Usually there’s always the one or other night owl about, but tonight, it seems, I’m the only oddball who’s out of bed at half three in the morning. It would appear that the majority of people still prefer the comforts of their own homes at such an ungodly hour. To be quite honest, so do I, but I find my four walls constricting, to the point that it feels like they’re suffocating me. Paranoid much, huh?
Never mind that, no matter what I try, I can’t seem to fall asleep, staring at the walls is even worse. At some point, after many futile attempts at either distracting myself or tiring myself out, it started to feel like the walls were on a mission to close in on me and trap me in my misery. I did the only sensible thing, I could think of at the time, and I escaped to a place where there are no walls. In hindsight, wandering the streets in the middle of the night is anything but sensible, but then again, the damage is already done. At least I’m now in a place where I feel closest to the one person who always made sure I didn’t wander around aimlessly in the dark of the night. Oddly enough it relaxes me more than anything else I tried. Though, I reckon, if I continue to indulge in this unhealthy habit of spending half the night strolling up and down this street someone IS going to eventually call the guards on me. I can already envision that awkward conversation: “So, Miss, what exactly is the reason for your nightly returns to this street?”
Insomnia? Idiocy? Love? Pain? A cruel form of self-torture? The moon? Missing my lover so bad I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be? While I’m not quite sure what response would be appropriate, but I’m pretty sure any of these would result in an immediate transferral to padded cell in the nearest mental institution. Maybe not such a bad idea, actually. At least they have drugs there, drugs that can put me to sleep. Something I’ve been sorely lacking in the last few weeks, yet so desperately need.
With a sigh I find myself sitting down at the bus stop, waiting for a bus that won’t arrive for hours to come. I can feel the tiredness slowly seeping through my entire body, but I know I won’t fall asleep even if I go home now. Maybe this would make for a more appropriate explanation of my being here: Er, my alarm clock is broken, was afraid of sleeping in and my boss is a bit of a tosser when it comes to being late? Combined with a little flirtatious smile that should do the trick, shouldn’t? Yeah right, I’m sure the guards would believe that in a heartbeat. I sigh again. This is madness. I just can’t get you off my mind. I’ve tried, not very hard, though not for very long, but I have tried. Endurance isn’t really one of my strong points. Things would honestly be a lot better if you were around, they really would, but that’s just wishful thinking.
A hollow laugh escapes my throat though I’m not so sure what’s so funny. I guess I’ve finally started that inevitable downward spiral toward insanity. That didn’t take long then. Moments later I fall silent and blinking furiously, I find myself trying very hard to control my suddenly very erratic breathing. I could’ve sworn I just saw you there by the corner, yet that’s pretty much impossible! Or is it? I’m sure it is. Impossible that is. This has to be my over-exhausted mind playing mean tricks on me. This can’t be, it just can’t be. Or can it…?