Sometimes there are nights where you can’t sleep–where you’re awake with nothing beside you but the thoughts in your head. Tonight is one of those nights. I find myself here, in my pajamas, struggling to string words together.
And then there are ideas that stick with you, a little ten-word-story that goes a little something like this: “I’m homesick for arms that don’t want to hold me.”
It replays over and over and over in my mind. I’ve been homesick for those arms for as long as I can remember–since the last time you held me. I’ve dreamt of them often.
And now that I feel myself slipping into the slumber I’ve desired for hours, I know that they’ll be right there in my dreams again tonight.