Wednesday, July 02, 2003

It's the return of Insomnia Theatre...

Had a great night last night. And, if you believe that, I've got some beach-front property in Kansas I'd like to sell you.

As some of you may know - or all of you if I'm repeating myself - I had an interesting summer last year. Insomnia, sleepwalking, a nervous breakdown, and an attempted suicide made it very interesting. It all started with insomnia, which is probably why insomnia gets my paranoia alarm ringing like an epileptic on crack these days.

... which brings us to last night.

I went to bed early. After missing sleep over the weekend (ah, the good old days!), I was in need of some good sleep. At 11pm, I was in the sack. Yes, 11pm is early for me. I dropped off without too much delay and slept like a baby.

Until 1am.

I woke up, thinking I'd lost something. It took me several minutes of looking high and low all over my bedroom to realize 1) I wouldn't find it and 2) I didn't even know what "it" was! By that time, I was wide awake. I thought I'd put myself to sleep with some reading. I'm reading "Fast Food Nation" right now, a book so alarming it would make a Vegan out of Sean - and if you know Sean, that's saying a WHOLE LOT!

Well, by 2:30am, I knew I wasn't going to sleep. I got up and started wandering around my apartment. What does one do at 2:30am? Wander!

I knew why I wasn't sleeping. I knew what I was missing. Rosa. Like Rome, all roads seem to lead to her. I lost so much when I lost her that living for the past three and a half years has been a constant challenge. Things would be so much easier, I thought, if I still had the woman who I love. The problem, though, is that she never really loved me. In that context, it's not hard to see how she could have been so selfish and uncaring and how she could have tossed me aside so easily.

I started doing a little tidying. When you're half-awake and unable to sleep, you shouldn't start any major chores - you're hoping you'll fall back to sleep, after all - but a little tidying is good. I started putting away some laundry I'd done a few nights before. There it was, folded up neat and tidy in the basket, waiting to be put away. As I was putting away some socks, I noticed something in the drawer.

It was a key. A car key. Specifically, it was Rosa's car key. I still had it from when we were together. I'd buried it away and forgotten about it and she had obviously not cared about it, either. I sat down and looked at that key for several minutes.

What to do, I wondered. Do I toss it? Give it back?

I couldn't toss it. I felt that would be wrong. If someone found something of mine, I'd want them to return it. So, returning it seemed like the thing to do. But when? How? I knew I'd have plenty of time to think about that over the weekend. I'll be seeing Tim this weekend, spending it at his place in San Diego - I could think about it then.

And, so, I went back to sleep. It was 3am.

At 3:30am, I was still awake. The key sat upon my dresser. I couldn't take my mind off of it.

At 4am, I still couldn't take my mind off of it. Having something of hers - when she had so vividly excluded me from her life, not wanting anything to do with me - just felt wrong.

By 4:30am, I knew I couldn't wait until the weekend. I got up, grabbed the key, and drove to her house. I put the key in an envelope with a short note saying "I found this and thought you'd want it back" enclosed on her porch and drove home.

By this time, it was 5am. I knew I wouldn't be getting back to sleep.

Maybe I'll sleep tonight. Maybe someday the pain of losing Rosa won't be so tangible. Maybe, someday, I will truly be able to live with what I've done, with what I had no choice but to do, with leaving Rosa.

Until then, dear friends, I'm really tired.

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