My son’s woken up from a nightmare, and here I am, wide awake: It’s a quarter after two, I’m all alone, and I need him now.
Sleep has been so hard to find lately, I feel so tired, so immensely sad…I just wish the power of my longing could turn back the clocks. That I would stop waking up at 6.20 every morning, stretching my leg towards his, only to be met by a cool patch of sheets. Yes, this is all unhelpful thinking, what good is it going to do me, blablablabla…But at 2.30 in the morning, there is no strength left in me to beat out the misery. I miss my companion.