too much, too much

I don't like this anymore, sleeping at all the wrong times (is it really easier to keep going?) Well sometimes I do, but tonight is not one of them. It is frustrating, and I feel my brain cells deteriorating and I can't fall asleep and it's sort of that time when I wish you would sing me to sleep but I don't wish it enough to call or text; it's sort of that time when I wish I had friends over, but again, not enough to make it happen. Alone time is good, and I needed it, and sometimes being alone with my thoughts is so draining that I drag myself to malls and public places, just to recharge and reenergize and people watch, just long enough to remember that I am alive and well and things like that. Where did you go, anyway? What made you change? I will never know. Admittedly, I have not forgotten you yet, but—despite several commendable attempts to remember—I have forgotten what it was like to want you so badly it hurt, to ache and miss you more than I had ever felt before. Well, I guess this is a good thing, and I have nothing to complain about.