It's almost 1 AM. I'm lying in the dark, tangled in my sheets, eyes open but unseeing. My phone screen is black. No call. No message. It's the first night we haven't called since ... since it started.
Noah has his hands full tonight, adjusting to life with a new puppy. I get it. I really do. But understanding something doesn't make it any less lonely. And I don't know why it hits this hard.
I've already taken a sleeping pill an hour ago, maybe more. It did nothing. Just dulled the edges of my thoughts enough to let them blur together like storm clouds in a gray sky. I keep tossing and turning, pulling the blanket up then throwing it off again. The pillow's too hot. The air's too dry. Everything feels wrong.
I sigh and sit up, the sheets sliding down my legs. The room is silent except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional car outside. I blink slowly, feeling the emptiness.
