I hate sleeping alone though I’ve done it for the past several years easily. Sometimes I feel like there’s a part of me that’s broken, that’s not meant to live the life I write about. The romance, the passion, the love, it all sounds good but I tend to break things, to break relationships.
Honestly, I can’t tell you what time it is. I got off work, drunk a bottle of wine, took an ambien and went to sleep. Right now I’d rather sleep then to be awake and constantly think about who’s thinking or not thinking about me.
That’s something that consumes me most nights, most days. Wondering who you matter to or who you mattered to. I’m just tired, tired of always feeling like I’m fucking up or not good enough and I don’t know how not to be tired.
I need to find happy, writing gets me there but as soon as I’m done with the chapter or paragraph or story I’m right back to feeling like I need that next drink to calm me down. To take my mind off no one sitting alongside me.
Father’s Day is this weekend and I often think of how my life, my psyche would be different if I would have grown up different. I take good people and I push them away. Is that my superpower…
God didn’t create us to be alone…
These are the thoughts of Demez F. White, whatever I’m not in life; hopefully I’ll be that in my writing.