1:26 AM

Insomnia has become my muse. It has become a time during which I see and hear things to which I would not ordinarily be privy. It is during this time that I examine myself at the deepest, the most raw. I understand myself better. I understand my motives better. I allow myself to feel all that I compartmentalize only when no one else can see and no one else can hear. I cry. I cry for myself. And I cry for others. Alone and in the dark. I think more clearly. I speak more directly. To whom? To no one. To myself.

Curiosity. A desire to know more. A need to understand. It does not kill the cat but allows it to live fully in that moment, in the discovery of some new truth. If this is a lie then by all means, declare me dead, for my inquisitive mind will never be stopped. The answers to my questions lie waiting for my courage to take me to them. I'll never know the answers to what I cannot ask.

I've had one person in my heart and on my mind for a year. I miss someone so much it's starting to hurt. The only time it hurts saying goodbye is when I'm saying it to my dog. I don't let my emotions show for fear of showing the wrong one. I know where my home is, and it isn't here. Honesty.

I never address what I write here, but always, always I am writing to someone specific. Sometimes it is the whole piece and other times just a portion. I never know if the intended will read it. I never know if they do. I call it trust.