As the night wears on, sleep deludes her. She thinks of watching a movie or reading a novel, anything to distract her restless heart. She ends up lying in bed, listlessly staring at the rotating fan. Of late, she has been doing that quite often, staring at the fan. A dog barked somewhere outside. She looked out the window and saw the pathway by the side of her house lit by a forgotten porch light. She could see faint lights dotting the horizon and felt somewhat reassured. There are others out there who are up in the middle of the night, she was not alone. She felt a kind of solidarity with those strangers, though distant, who shared the night with her. Picking up the Ruskin Bond book, she leafed through it, only to keep it aside again. Plugging in the earphones, she scrolled through her playlist and realized she wasn’t in the mood for music either. Tired of waiting to fall asleep, she switched off the light in the hope that darkness would tempt Morpheus to descend but alas. The dining room’s light spilled through the crack of her door, filling the room with a soft glow. Her brother was up, watching football matches. She enjoys watching them with her brother sometimes but not this night. Accepting that tonight is going to be one of those nights when she won’t be getting any sleep at all, she went out to her balcony. She sat still, letting her mind go wild, aching at the chaos inside. The chaos all around was calmer than the chaos inside her mind. She knew. She knew why she was sitting in her swing, at the dead of the night, instead of getting a good night’s sleep. She knew but she was not ready to acknowledge it. She felt weak admitting, even to herself, that after all these years, she was still carrying old hurts, still stuck in first love, still holding onto lost memories. Try as she might to forget, he was always there, just out of reach, veiled in the closed chamber of her heart. And at nights like this, with the wind whispering and the moon shining, he often haunted her, making solitude unbearable.
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/chaos/”>Chaos</a> The Bleeding Heart