SIckly Tired

    I don't sleep well on my own. My body always seems to have trouble falling asleep while my mind races. At night time I seem to think the most. All the thoughts I push to the side during the day seem to come alive right when I'm trying to fall asleep. So instead of sleeping I lay in my bed, trying to calm my thoughts and hoping I fall asleep within the hour. Sometimes it happens other times I fall into a light snooze, until I eventually fall into a deeper sleep.
    Usually if I have trouble sleeping I'll make up a story in my head, give my brain something to focus on until my body finally passes out. They tend to be fantasy stories or remakes of novels or shows I've watched, but occasionally when I don't have the strength to fight with myself, they're stories of my life.
    I try to stay away from these types of stories. I've learned the hard way that they can ruin me mentally, but every once in a  while when my brain just isn't thinking straight I fall into them. Last night was one of those nights. I was sick, still sort of am, with clogged sinuses and a constant headache. I went to sleep early last night, as I could no longer keep my eyes open while reading my book, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
    Although because I went to sleep so early I ended up waking up around three in the morning, but I was desperate to get more sleep, since I'd only slept about 7 hours and wanted to get at least 9, so I laid in bed trying to relax and let my brain fall into story land. Now that I'm writing this down they seem so stupid and silly, yet they helped me fall asleep and brought me some amount of comfort.
    Last night trying to fall asleep I think I dreamt up at least 4 different scenarios of Aster just coming into my room and sleeping in our bed. They were all innocent and pg stories too. Once I woke up to someone opening the door and I started freaking out cause I thought there was a burglar only for his head to pop through the crack, scaring the shit out of me. Another time I was stretching out my hand in bed and got confused as to why I hit something and he was there sleeping next to me. And on they go, silly stupid things like that.
    My brain and I both know that for some reason I sleep best when Asters sleeping next to me. I tend to fall asleep faster when he's over, I rarely wake up in the middle of the night when he's here and I don't think I've ever had a nightmare with him here either.
    Even though I'm sick, it makes me want him here all the more. It's a selfish thought. That's why this weekend I'm alone. No need for the both of us to get sick.

I tried to be the sun

I tried to be the sun once, a long time ago. 

    It was easier back then, even if I couldn't achieve the full effect with everyone I still did my best. Trying to bring everyone around me into a light that would bring smiles and cheer. It made me self centered, wanting the people around me to be happy and to get along. It took me a while to realize that, but I still choose to act like a sun, getting all my friends to orbit around me and themselves. I still do this with certain people, try to get everyone I care about included. Get them to smile, feel happy even when I want to jump into a pit.
    I don't do this anymore. Not to the degree I did when I was younger. Now I choose to single out individuals that are outcasts or merge with a group that has a dynamic and role I can easily fit into. For my drinking friends I'm 'the girlfriend' and 'the moron,' two roles that don't need me to be anything but myself.
    So it was surprising when I found myself falling into a habit that I thought I had dropped years ago. Yet here I am once again trying to be a sun. Visiting my mom always makes me feel like I've fallen back into a different time. I revert a little to that naive girl, for just a moment my brain thinks 'I'm with mama. Everything is OK.' That feeling lasts for days at best. Still it easily brings forth my terrible habit. Usually I notice it after a few days, but this time I'm here without my brother and because I have time in the middle of the day where I'm alone I never noticed that when I'm with my mother and Larkspur I put on that mask once again.
    I suddenly spent four days in a row with the both of them, Spur during the day and Ma' during the evening or both. At one point I felt exhausted even though I'd just been chilling all day with the two of them. The back of my brain though was hard at work, thinking about how to split my time between the two of them and what we can do together and hoping neither of them feel ignored. It got to the point where I just wanted to lock myself in a room all by myself so my brain would just stop racing.
    I should have seen the obvious clues, cracking jokes whenever, smiling often and constantly checking on my mom. My Gram' even commented that every time she see's me I'm such a 'happy child' and she's so glad.
    I want to laugh, because I am not a happy child. I have good days, of course, but more often than not I feel neutral. When I'm here in a place that has long since stopped being my home I feel empty, sort of dead. I try to find the good in my surroundings, but I hate being here. Now more than ever.
    I don't really care what we do. Sure let's go to the gym. Let's go for a walk. I'm up for watching a movie. Honestly I don't fucking care. Anything to make the time pass by faster. I will do anything to feel less like me. That's probably why it's so easy for me to dress up here.

I just want to go back to my home. 

    I want to enter the room and be greeted by an over excited basset hound breed. I want to pet him and say silly things to him that he doesn't understand while being watched by an amused long haired blond, who greets me after I finish adoring the lovable pupper. Then walk up to him and say a casual 'hey' before sitting down on the couch next to him with the doggo quickly jumping up to join us.

I want to go back to my home, not be stuck in an 

empty shell that has no life in it's walls. 

Just a few more weeks

    You lay down for the night. Bringing you're soft covers up to your neck and tucking it in around your body, warming yourself up in the chilly bed. You cuddle your dragon plush. It brings you comfort despite it not being your usual companion. The purple bear you tend to sleep with is back home, across the sea. Left home in fear of losing him on the plane.
    A mimikyu plush joins the two of you, watching over from the top of the pillows. All that's left before you try to sleep is the sweatshirt. It's not yours. Lent to you, by request. It's not something you wear, more of a sleeping companion then anything else.
    The first few nights you would smell their smell on it, but over time it faded. Now it's just another reminder of what's waiting back home. Still you tuck the sweatshirt between your pillows, pulling out one of it's arms. You wrap around it as if you were holding someones hand. Sometimes when you're on the verge of falling asleep you can almost feel their hand holding yours.
    After tucking yourself in and settling for a comfortable position you close your eyes, hoping for a quick dreamless sleep. You don't fall asleep immediately though, that's never the case. Now even more so. Instead your tired brain wonders.
    What are they up to? How is everything at home? How's the dog doing? When will I get to see them? Some nights are bad though, your brain descends into the darker parts that you try to ignore during the day. What if they found someone who makes them happier? What if they realize they don't love me anymore?

What if I come back only to discover my world is now gone? 

I try to forget about those night. 

    Still you sleep restless, light and on the verge of waking. It's like this most nights for reason unexplained. After a while your body finally gives out and you sleep normally, but once you're well rested it's back to the usual.
    It's only a few more weeks. You think to yourself, cuddling closer to the sweatshirt trying in vain to smell the familiar scent that has long since disappeared.

Just a few more weeks.

HomeSick

    I feel as if I've entered into another dimension. One where my family never moved to Poland, but my parents still got divorced. Where my brother went to college overseas just to get away from them both and I stayed behind, to keep my mothers abandonment issues from growing.
    I'm in a world where I live to work, because there's nothing else that helps distract me from the void I feel slowly consuming me. Everything is just like I remember it, but a fraction off, keeping me from seeing it until it smacks me right in the face.
    Illinois is a drastically different place compared to the polish coast. Everything is flat here, extremely so. You can drive in a straight line for hours without having to make a turn and you'll still get somewhere. The stores are all lined up in an orderly fashion. All of them have the same style store front, beige concrete with occasional green/brown accents. The only way you differentiate between them all is their signs. In order to get anywhere you need a car, unless you want to walk endlessly for hours in a straight line.
    I just look and I can't help but compare it to my home. Where's the forest that can be reached in less than three minutes walking? Where are all the tree's growing out of side walks or in yards, that make building occasionally difficult but people still keep them? Where are the hillsides that make you hate walking somewhere far? The buses and trams that save you from those walks? The friendly bike lines that allow bikers to share the road with cars? Nonexistent. All of it is nonexistent.

    Everything here is contained and orderly. 

Everything there is organized chaos. 

    The two towns that I know so well are separate worlds. No matter how many times I come here I can't seem to find a nook for myself. I can't help but feel displaced and lost. Counting down the days until I get back. Sure I distract myself with food, but everything is so much sweeter here. It makes me sick to my stomach. Family is always trying to get you to stay, even if it's just a little bit longer. Thus I've learned to tip toe around the subject like a mouse hiding from a cat.
    My mother told me I should try to date while I'm here. 'It'll get you out of the house' she said, despite knowing I've been in a relationship for as long as I have. I declined, explaining I would feel uncomfortable doing that, while trying to keep myself from being sick. Just thinking about doing such a thing makes me feel awful. Dating while dating someone else that you love is cheating, no matter how my mother tries to phrase it.
    I got hired by a coffee company. I guess that's a silver lining, although I have to wait for them to do a background check on me before I can be officially hired. Which can take anywhere from three days to three weeks. I just need a distraction other than reading, watching or family. Anything to keep me from thinking of home.
    It's been a week since I left, each day I only miss him more. His smell from his sweatshirt has almost faded, making it just a piece of clothing that reminds me every night of what I miss most. My brain keeps thinking about 'when I get back.' Dreaming up scenarios where he's at the airport with my family waiting to pick me up and as soon as I spot him I can't take my eye's off of him. Or where I get home on my own and find him in my room, waiting.
    I miss him, I miss Bax. They fill a void in my heart, because they are my home. If it weren't for them Poland would be just another more comfortable place for me to live.

Three songs

    A slow heavy beat starts to play. The lights dim, until only the mic is lit in a soft glow. Someone slips out from behind the curtains, slowly walking towards the mic stand. Everyone is silent as they slowly observe the singer calmly making their way towards the center. 

Have you got color in your cheeks?

    She starts to sing, grabbing onto the stand, while cupping the mic with one of her hands. Her voice is slow and sensual, dark hair blocking her face from view, but everyone is mystified.

Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?

    She peaks up at the crowd now, standing straight and singing. Slowly she gets comfortable on stage, starts to sing confidently.

So have you got the guts?

Been wondering if your hearts still open and if so I wanna know

 what time it shuts.

    She starts to sensually move her hips, dancing with the mic stand and making eye contact with the crowd.

Crawling back to you.

    Here she locks eyes with a green eyed blonde sitting in the back. The words resonate through the two of them, before she moves on breaking the eye contact and calmly sashaying down the stage.

Do you want me crawling back to you?

    The music ends on a high guitar note and the stage goes black. The lights don't get brighter though, only the crowd slowly starts to thin. The blond stays rooted to his chair.
    The music starts again, a peppy beat plays and the stage lights up brighter than before. The singer's back faces the crowd when lyrics are sung.

Caffeine, small talk, wait out the plastic weather.  

    She swings her hips with a different energy, this time expressing happiness, before jumping forward to face the smaller crowd.

You know I talk too much!

    The brunets hair flips forward as she dances with the mic in hand. She's smiling openly now letting the beat flow through her. Jumping and dancing around the stage energetically letting the music carry her.

Silence is golden, but you've got my hopes up.

    Her she suddenly freezes, once again locking eyes with the blond. There are unanswered question in both of their eyes and the man looks to stand, but the brunet's eyes dart away going back to singing the song and entertaining the others.

You know I talk too much.

Honey come put your lips on mine.

    She teases the crowd dancing and laughing, enjoying the energy flowing through her while singing, trying to ignore the feelings slowly coming to the surface.
    When the song ends, the lights go out once more. Again people go, leaving only the blond and the brunet, hidden on stage.
    The music starts out slow once again, but the lights stay dark, hiding the singer in shadows. Still you can see her silhouette near the mic stand.

Hold on, what's the rush, what's the rush, well?

    Her voice cheery for the last song now sounds remorseful, almost pleading.

Hold on, I'll be here when it's all done you know.

    As the song continues she edges off the stage carefully making her way towards the sole occupant of the room.

You know I'm gonna find a way to let you have your way with me.

    She sings behind the blond, moving to stay out of sight each time he turns his head. When he tries to stand and turn to catch the singer she disappears into the darkness behind him.

And if I was running, You'd be the one who I would be running to.
And if I was crying, You would be lining the cloud that would pull me through.
And if I was scared, Then I would be glad to tell you and walk away.

    Suddenly she's back on stage and the lights burn just a tad brighter. He can now see her eyes again, slowly filling with tears as they gaze at each other. There is no dancing in this song, instead she tries to convey her emotions to him. Her eyes burn fierce for a moment pleading with him, but it only lasts just a moment.

I am just trying to find my way to you.

    The singer wraps her arms around herself dropping her mic, but still singing strongly despite the tears running down her face.

You know I'm gonna find a way to let you have your way with me.

    She finishes the song with a melancholy smile before slowly fading into the darkness, leaving the blond alone to his thoughts.

Pleading with yourself

    You're sitting at your desk, studying. Trying to focus on the notes before you. They're covered in pencil marks, squiggles, different math formulas. You try to focus on the definition that you need to remember for next weeks exam, but you can't.
    You constantly feel yourself starting to tear up, whether from frustration, exhaustion or stress you don't really know. You try to ignore it, after all there's someone else in your room, focusing on their own task, but you can't wish away the tears that keep trying to spill.
     So you give up, grab a bunch of tissues and silently leave the room. You climb the stairs to the most isolated part of the house and there you hide in the furthest corner. Tucking into yourself as you sit on the floor, you chin resting on your knees. There you finally let your tears fall.
    They come slowly and quietly roll down your cheeks as you try to keep the snot running from your nose off your jeans. It's a useless en-devour. In a matter of moments you start to speak to yourself, trying to comfort the soul inside you crying out. You ask why and what for, but soon it turns to desperate pleas.
    Your so very afraid of what will happen if you fail. It's not just about the consequences or the disappointment. You don't know what you will do if you fail. In fact you're so afraid of what you'll do that you hug yourself closer stifling whatever sounds you make as you quietly beg yourself not to do it.
    As much as you joke about it, as much as you thought about doing it in the past. At this very moment in time right now, you don't want to die. Yet you're so afraid that if you fail, you will do it. No matter how much you love the people around you, no matter how much you want to stay.
    If it happens you don't know if you'll have the strength to keep yourself from doing it. One side of you is screaming to not give in yet, there's still time and hope. Just focus and you can do this. But there's another side, a silent slowly growing roar that says enough is enough and it's time to go, we've overstayed our welcome.
    They both fight, one planning final letters to those you care about, another screaming to get up and go back to studying. They both overwhelm and terrify you. You're frozen in place, wishing the other occupant from your room would just magically appear and make it all better, make it bearable. They don't, you came here to be alone, so alone you shall be.
    You continue crying, speaking, no pleading and begging yourself to stop, to think, to not do it. It goes on for a little while, but you're finally able to talk yourself through it. That voice quiets down and you slowly stand deciding to wash your face at the sink.
    You take off your glove before you splash some water on your face. Eventually your hands stop shaking and you pocket your glove, trying to forget about the other voice the one that wishes so much for the end.
    Still you go back to your room slowly and walk in as if nothing had happened before sitting down and starting to earnestly study. This time the tears stayed at bay.

I can't do it anymore

    My favorite type of fanfiction were the ones where the main character went back in time and redid his story with his knowledge of past mistakes. It became my obsession for a long while and I found a lot of gems in that area.
    Still after a while I started to imagine what I would do if I ever got to re-do my life. At one point I let go of fanfiction and thus my obsession of re-doing things as well faded, but recently I've started to think about it all over again.
    What would I do? How would I act? What would I change? I always picture myself going back in time and pretending to be really dumb in school, but still passing while also playing with my brother more and doing more extra curricular activities.
    Advancing myself while I was still young, but I always get to a summer where my brother and I go to visit our grandparents in Poland and my daydream starts to sadden, because as stupid as this sounds I start to think of Aster.
    I think of our years together and how I was a total greenhorn at feelings and relationships, how we took it so slow that we didn't have our first kiss until our sixth month of dating. How he was so sweet and understanding and never pushed but patiently waited.
    Somehow over our time together we also grew into each other. I always stop my re-do stories when I get to Poland, because that's where I start to reflect, where I think about Aster.
    I know that if I ever had a re-do I would avoid him like the plague. Make myself as unlikable and uninteresting as possible, because then he'd never approach me, never ask that one question that started it all. 'Hey, where do you go during free period?'
    Once or twice I imagined waking up at a younger age and finding out that he's from the future as well, but I feel like that's cheating. Having your SO remember too, just because you don't want to loose the precious memories between the two of you.
    I try not to read into this too much. Would you give up some of your most precious experiences just to be able to start you life all over again? Food for thought.