My eyes are so dry and heavy it hurts to blink. I'm so exhausted I wonder how I even kept from crashing all day. But the minute my head kisses my pillow sleep fails to show itself to me.
It's almost black in my room and the air is a little cold for comfort. I bundle myself in my blanket even tighter and try to rest. But my eyes won't close.
They just stare at my ceiling for hours at a time. My thoughts trail in circles through my head like an old arthritic dog trying to lay down. I want the quiet of sleep so desperately.
How long have I been staring like this one hour? Two? I check and I've only been like this for ten minutes. It's 2:43 A.M. I think the thing I miss the most is the dreams.
But sunrises can be so beautiful. I try even harder to sleep this time. But still nothing. It feels like it's been ages but it's only been another half hour.
Finally the sweet release of peaceful nothingness takes me by the hand and drifts me to into a rest. When I wake up I'm still fairly tired.
But to an insomniac three hours of sleep can mean the world.