Dark

Everything is dark,
dark and empty.

We fell out this morning, not the first time. It has haunted me all day, filled my head with doubt, left me uncertain.
He's asleep down the stairs, on the sofa, courtesy of his snoring problem which keeps me awake all night long.
It begs the question: "Why does the sound of his (relatively soft) snoring disturb me so much, why can't I find comfort in it, like many others do?"
Lately, I find myself more and more lost a world unknown, filled with very familiar corners.
I'm never far away from a very bright and far too noisy dream. Dreams and reality have begun to melt into one, and I ask my children if they can recall something or other, only just remembering myself, that it only happened in one of my wacky journeys of semi-unconsciousness.

This evening I dozed of, just for a moment, in the sofa. My little girl came through to tell me something... and I asked:"Is het nu al klaar??!" (Is it ready already??! in Dutch). She asked "What??" in a very uncomprehending tone of voice. I just don't know where things keep coming from. My question held no relevance to her message. Increasingly I find so many things that hold no relevance to everything else surrounding it.

Most of all, I wonder if I'm on the path that was cut out for me.
I look around me and sometimes, everything, except my children, seems so alien.
Life feels too heavy to bear, the days too bright, the nights too dark. At the same time, for some strange reason that I can't explain, I somehow seem to skip the daylight. My mind plays tricks on me, locks me in a windowless box, leaves me unaware of the day opening up and closing again.
Nighttime is too dark, and yet, under the blanket of darkness I seem to feel sheltered and desperately lonely all at once. Like swimming in a dark warm womb, and then suddenly realising that the umbilical cord is missing, I'm on my own.
The man on the sofa down the stairs is miles away, he cannot reach inside my shell. He's a good man, and yet at times I don't know who he is, I look at him as he walks through the door, and I wonder: "Who is this familiar stranger?"
Something about him fits me perfectly, like comfortable slippers, a feeling of home... And other things send shivers down my spine, make me want to run. It's nothing he's done wrong, I just can't put my finger on it.

Exhaustion overwhelms me on a daily basis. Is it a result of my insomnia? Could it be that simple? Are all these demanding muddled up thoughts wearing me out?

A fitting answer would be so blissful...

At 16, I was a little bird, not yet ready to fly, I fell out of the nest... somehow I've made it this far, flying and falling along the way, never quite mastered the correct technique of using my wings to their best ability, but I'm still as lost as I was on the day I fell out. I want to be in the egg again, start all over, feel sheltered.