Insomnia

I can not sleep. My eyes are burning but not with exhaustion, more like thrill. One more breath and maybe I'll be unconcious forever more. No, instead, I'm up to scared to end this all, just pacing the floors and straightening my hair. Why am I straightening my hair at 1:30 in the morning? Well, why shouldn't I?

God, if you were real would you save me from this life I'm leading? You didn't save Patrick. You let him take away his own life, take his self away from me, why should my situation be much different? Right, unlike him I'm supposed to do something big. At least that's what they tell me. Every chance they get, C, you can make it, you're better than he ever was. He was perfect, that is how I know you are all lying. Maybe not in your eyes, maybe in your eyes you saw a drunken teenager crying out for affection, but I saw the agony of a mature man. Tell me that isn't perfection.

I'm supposed to live life to it's fullest. How is that possible when the only time I have been full was in his arns? No answer? I thought so. Perhaps if I keep pouring out my soul someone will hear me...No? That's right no one is there.

Unlike what all you 'professionals' say I'm not crying out for help. I'm just asking why? No one has the answer? Typical.