Written a few weeks ago…
I wake up in the morning—most times around 04:45. I have the intention of getting up to work out. Sometimes I linger. Sleep is the heaviest weight to lift. As long as I’m there, the world is somewhere else. I’m free.
I force myself up and out of bed. I have a goal to reach—peace of mind—at least in that respect. I head back and shower. I need to feel relaxed inside and out. I have to lie back down for a while. This is the reason I get up so early—I need more rest.
It’s time to get up—dressed and off to work. I hate commuting. I hate the commute—such a waste of time. I’m grateful to have a place to commute to though. You can’t have everything—not all the time.
I work. I enjoy what I do. I love my job. I know there’s so much more in life though. I can see it. I feel the ache in my heart that pushes me to pursue it… them… Dreams. I never had any growing up. I look back now and see wasted time; missed opportunities. There’s someone who makes the day bearable. I appreciate the company. I enjoy it.
I need to leave. I can’t spend all my time laboring away. I have to have a life of my own; time for myself. I get home and I’m greeted at the door with incessant whining. I’m sorry. I wish I had more time for you too. It’s running short though. I have a goal to reach.
It’s time to prepare things for the next day. Sometimes, I need to work out [again]. I need someone to talk to… There was a brief period when things were different. I wasn’t as lonely. That just like everything else faded away. Back to being lonely. Back to being alone. Back to looking for things to make this life more bearable. Back to trying to believe that the dreams aren’t too far away from becoming reality. Back to the routine…