I don't want to sleep.
I know what happens when I sleep. My mind allows my brain to connect the dots of thoughts I've been having. When I sleep, all the monsters, demons, angels and imperfections come seeping out. It's no longer staying awake to have something in the day worth staying up for; it's now staying awake because it's not worth waking up, knowing what it will feel like.
Ill. Bunged up, heavy, cold, too hot, struggling to breathe, wanting to be free from all the pain in my chest.
Today is fucked up. I had a dream that my mother kept trying to kiss my dad and he just pushed her away, awfully, each time, in front of me, my flat mates and my best friend. I hated him for it. I hated for obvious he was, how cruel he was, and how I couldn't do anything to change it, stop it, or make the feelings in my gut go away,
Then, in real life, feel ill and groggy, I speak to my sisters about obligation, responsibility and commitment. We talk about Helen changing names on papers so that its her, mum, and if we want, me and charlie. We talk about power and change and positive input but then she tells me that the day before she left, when drunk, mum starts crying. They're alone and its gone midnight and mum tells her she's scared that dad's going to leave her. Charlie changes the conversation and within three minutes, they're gone again, into the empty abyss of being half the world ahead of me.
I can't deal with this one.
I've known it. It's been coming, I've felt it, Ben's heard my voice cracking and I've tried to not talk about it too much but it's this big inevitable shit that I can't deny anymore and I don't know what the hell to do. I want to help my mum fight her battles, but it's not my fight, and I want to tell my dad to fuck off and rot in a small ball but I love my dad and I can't really do that. I miss my brother today; he's the voice of reason, he's the middle ground between dad and us, and I wish he was here to help me. But none of them are. And every day I go to work, breaking my back for their company, lying through my smile to customers about the importance of locality and how good a family-based company is. The more I have to do it, the less of a shit I give.
And I knew it was today. I knew today was the day to stay out, have that beer too many, and have that talk. And of course, like every other thing since I broke martin's heart on his birthday two years and four months ago, nothing ever seems to happen the way I would hope.
I'm sick of love today. It just fucking hurts.