“ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT”

What does one normally do on a sleepless night? Do they pray for exhaustion to take over their consciousness? Do they try to distract themselves, doing things in hopes that sleep will come around again?

Alas, sleep won’t come and there’s only exhaustion. The morning arrives and you’re still far from alright. Then comes the haggard day, another migraine. It’s the same old tunnel vision and familiar pain.

You don’t remember the last time you talked about this to anyone else. Perhaps you’ve stopped. Once again, you’ve kept it mostly to yourself. You wonder if there’s any point of talking about it at all.

Another sleepless night and you choose to hang out with your old best friend from out of town. It’s the same best friend who hung out with you the last time somebody broke your heart. Just like before, you just wanted foods, drinks, and jokes. You don’t feel like talking about what’s been bugging you lately and he always understands.

Of course, once in a while you blurt it out and you end up talking anyway. He may not always have the best advice – hand on heart – but at least he still listens and doesn’t judge. It’s kind of rare these days.

Eventually, you part and go on your separate ways. There’s always a price to pay for your sleepless night. It’s quite hefty, called ‘the loss of a day’.

You find yourself unable to wake up completely. You drown into a deep sleep, drowning in your dreams. No, they’re more like nightmares. Two dark, hooded figures chasing after you, under the night sky and on some dystopian land.

The only safe way is to hide behind the walls, locking the door – hoping they won’t be able to go through the walls.

You find yourself in a much darker room. You think you’re alone, until a soft, cool breath blows behind your neck and a gentle voice whispers:

“Sssh, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Come, let me hold you. Closer, let me protect you. Look at you now. You’re shivering.”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” you find yourself whisper as you start fighting back tears. You always hate feeling weak and helpless.

“Trust me,” that voice softly urges you. “Trust your gut feeling. It’s okay. I’m not letting anybody hurt you. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you turn around. A pair of cool, iron grips are around your arms. That’s when you feel yourself being pulled into an embrace. Warm, with your ear pressed against someone’s chest. You can hear its rythmical beats.

To your horror, it’s not just the beats. You can hear a distant scream, loud and blood-curdling. No, not just one. Screams of women in agony.

You realise your mistake, but by then – it’s already way too late. It’s hard to let yourself go.

So you shut your eyes tightly and start screaming too…

…and you finally wake up completely, sweating and hyperventilating.

You listen to the first song after waking up. All you get is Linkin Park’s “From The Inside”. You wonder if the universe is trying to tell you something.

Still, you listen to it anyway:

 

“Take everything from the inside

And throw it all away

Cause I swear, for the last time

I won’t trust myself with you…”

 

Not long after that, came Papa Roach’s “Scars”:

 

“I tear my heart open

I sew myself shut

My weakness is

That I care too much

My scars remind me

That the past is real

I tear my heart open

Just to feel…”

 

No, you wish for no more sleepless nights. Enough is enough!

 

R.

(Jakarta, 30/3/2018 -1:35 pm)

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