It is nearly two in the morning and I am awake, so naturally I deemed it best to write.
Tonight has been a "feels-filled" night for the most part, full of reminders of heartbreak, of sadness, of the past.
It's a different kind of sadness, this. It's not a loneliness, not even a melancholia. It is merely a shadow of a feeling I used to have, a memory of a misery that had long been kept at bay. It's a sort of nostalgia for what was and a painful longing for what wasn't.
At this moment, at two in the morning, my brain is on overdrive and my heart is struggling to keep up. My brain is recalling moments that my heart feels nothing for anymore. My heart is reaching for emotions my brain refuses to remember.
It is that age-old struggle that renders my body fatigued as result.
It is two in the morning and my soul needs rest.
Tonight has been a "feels-filled" night for the most part, full of reminders of heartbreak, of sadness, of the past.
It's a different kind of sadness, this. It's not a loneliness, not even a melancholia. It is merely a shadow of a feeling I used to have, a memory of a misery that had long been kept at bay. It's a sort of nostalgia for what was and a painful longing for what wasn't.
At this moment, at two in the morning, my brain is on overdrive and my heart is struggling to keep up. My brain is recalling moments that my heart feels nothing for anymore. My heart is reaching for emotions my brain refuses to remember.
It is that age-old struggle that renders my body fatigued as result.
It is two in the morning and my soul needs rest.
How beautifully written, and at two in the morning, no less! - S.
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