Dear Diary,
You know… I used to think sleep was a basic human right. Like oxygen. Or silence after midnight.
But here I am. 2:38 a.m. Eyes wide open. Brain doing backflips. Body completely exhausted but somehow still... on.
Dorm life? Forget it. Sleep there is a rumor passed down from upperclassmen. A bedtime story for freshmen. But home, home was supposed to be the reset. My sanctuary. My silence.
And then came my aunt.
Now, don’t get me wrong — she’s wonderful. One of those genuinely kind people who always smiles and asks about your day. But today... she napped. Noon to midnight. Like she was training for a sleep marathon I wasn’t invited to.
Now she’s up. Wide awake. Chatting with Remi like it’s noon in a quiet café. Meanwhile, I’m lying here not in bed, but in a war zone of noise .Their voices are soft, but when you're this tired, even soft feels like sandpaper.
It’s surreal. The house is dark, the world is still, but their conversation hums on : warm, harmless, and maddening. Like I’m stuck on the platform of a train station where no train ever comes. Just noise, flickering lights, and the slow unraveling of someone who only wanted to sleep.
Am I asking for too much? Really? I don’t want an infinite source of money. Just… temporary unconsciousness. A small break from the noise, the thoughts, the everything.
But I guess that’s the game now. Sleep teases me like an ex who knows I’ll always answer the phone only to hang up again. Every night. Without fail.
And still, I lie here. Eyes burning. Mind racing. Listening to two people enjoy a moment I can’t be part of. Not because I don’t want to but because I physically, mentally, can’t. Not when the remnants of sleep have already slipped through my fingers.
So I wait. For morning. For exhaustion to finally win.
Or maybe for the silence to come back.
Whichever shows up first.
Yours in despair and crumpled sheets,
The Sleepless One in Bed #2
Do you want to hear about the worst part? Because spoiler alert: the sleepless night? Yeah, that wasn’t even the headliner. That was just the sad little body.Let me take you back no, drag you to the exact moment my will to live checked out, booked a one-way ticket, and left me holding the bill.
But I’ll save the gruesome details for tomorrow.
Because at this very moment, all I crave is to surrender to oblivion and sleep as if it were the final curtain call.