It always seems like my writings come to me late at night. Technically early in the morning, I guess you could say. Three o’clock in the morning comes so quickly. I try to wind down, but my thoughts never stop. My brain is running a mile a minute and as exhausting as it sounds, rest never comes.
Three o’clock in the morning is an extremely lonely hour. The baby is sleeping, the dog is sleeping, it even sounds like the house itself has gone down for the night. But here I am, wide awake, praying sleep will find me soon enough.
When I’m awake this long, I find myself in a bad place mentally. Thinking of all the things I did wrong, thinking of all the things I should have said to make you stay. I find myself thinking about why my child and I were not good enough for you but a new child and woman were.
When will this pain end? When won’t I miss you like this? When will I know in my heart I’m good enough? When will I know deep down that we’ll be okay? I needed you, he needed you. You let us down.
But here it is three in the morning, and my heart blames me.