Slumberless

So it's three thirty three at night, I'm still chasing the ever elusive Sleep, to no avail...
I also chanced upon an old diary of mine, back when I was seventeen, into poetry and self-harm. I don't remember those days anymore.



That's a lie.
But in all honesty, I don't remember writing those words, but I do remember a friend reading it and telling me my pain hurt him... We are no longer friends at this point in time though. My loss.

Just a few days back, my best friend asked if I realized that at a point in time, in life, we would start to see significant people (to us, at least) walking out of our lives.
I told her that it must be a personal decision that it is so.
She didn't agree, but till this very second I would still like to stand uncorrected.

I would still like to have my friends back though.

Now that's another issue for another time. Back to my wild goose chase for sleep.