Presently, it is 4 am and I have awoken very much full of life energy. I want to go on an adventure in the crisp full moon air or at least have my love in company to chat with. Neither are possibilities, so I sit and write about my desire for them instead. I am reminded of the beginning pages of Swann’s way and the narrators reflection on sleep. I am having my own. What a strange thing it is, and more relevant lately, the cycles in which we may find ourselves. Perhaps as a by product of my sickness, the sleepiness has begun in my body at an earlier time, around 6 o’clock. I sleep then, then wake around midnight, wherein my lover joins me for slumber and cuddles alone, then rest after a couple hours awake again until early morning, where I may stare at the ceiling until it is time to begin the day properly. This schedule is a much worse use of my time. But, with the many awakenings within this time frame not mentioned in the grand outline of it, I have many dreams that linger with me. I do not remember many right after, nor now days later, but I feel their emotion stay on the tip of my heart and slide over into my dealings with the waking world. Often, the emotion is anger, though I don’t quite know where the strong presence of it follows from. There is not much to be angry about in my life, but maybe I only repress this emotion well enough that I do not even notice what sparks it within me anymore- or at least I do rarely. I suppose, if we were to truly look at that emotional landscape within me right now, we may see that I am harboring anger right now. I am upset that I had to fall asleep alone, that the plans were changed, and now that I missed the opportunity to regain my lover that came knocking mere hours ago with too deep a slumber and who is in the midst of the depths of his own currently. I do not want to lay in bed and write, though it is good for me, but instead be in the arms of another. And still more things, as I think on anger, come into mind- the forcible lie of omission weighing heavy on my chest strongest among them. The word forcible used because though I would rather be honest and fully transparent in my proceedings, the lover does not want to hear of it all despite my given freedom. I know that you, reader, most likely have no idea of what I’m saying, but it as clear as day to me. He would rather be kept in the dark, even if my love for him never falters but instead increasingly grows in a slow but consistent manner. I have never enjoyed the company of one so much I don’t think, and yet he is insecure enough not to listen to the explanations of my heart and my mind. It is suffocating to feel like I am living in a lie, yet knowing that the truth would rather not be heard, just kept silent. It makes me feel like there is dirt underneath my fingernails and behind my ears that will not be scrubbed clean and yet the skin feels raw. How does one breach a conversation that will break a lover’s heart, when nothing has changed for them in the heart of yourself?