It’s Namesake

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At night I have trouble sleeping. I look up to the ceiling while lying on my back. I can feel my breath as it leaves and re-enters my body. As I’m lying there something appears just out of sight. I turn towards it, but it suddenly vanishes. It reappears again and I try to turn around just to get even a glimpse. My movements are too slow and I just miss it again. We continue this dance, that thing and I, but I can never keep up. It almost feels like a fairy zipping to and fro in the tiny enclosed space that I call my room. I decide to ignore the little thing and lay my head back onto the pillow

The thing, whatever it is, starts to glow. It’s light doesn’t feel like it’s from a place of peace. The rays are an ominous red and I feel extremely uneasy. I start to become anxious and try to ignore the light, but it’s really really strong. I get desperate and cover my face with my blanket, which kept me safe from monsters as a child. Surely it would keep me safe now. The blanket gets pulled off of my body and I try to look to see whats happened. I see that it is my own arm that has forcibly shed the protective barrier, forces it’s owner, forcing me to face the light.

I look deep into the light, trying to make sense of what it is and why its come to visit me. I try to be cool and tell the light bug off. That doesn’t work. I try a more formal tone and politely ask that it leave that I might be able to sleep. It gently declines. I feel my whole body spasm and my face cringes and I start shaking in my bed and I beg the light to leave. The light remains silent, and before I even get a chance to say goodbye, the light disappears.

Every night I suffer when the light visits, but the light never judges me. It stays silent and stares at me with distant eyes asking me from time to time: “Why?”.

I don’t know, light. If I were a smarter person perhaps, or if I had the wisdom or foresight to make the right choices, I would have. But I can’t. My past will never change, and neither will you.

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