maybe she should just turn her laptop off?

12:03 am, the computer time read.

by this point, the urge to send that message had already become too strong—"happy 2nd," as in the 2nd of the month, like she used to send him whenever they crossed the daily threshold while they talked. three minutes into december the 2nd and she was already struggling so bad. without context, it would seem like an exaggeration, but taking into account the fact that they hadn't spoken in five days when they'd talked almost every hour in the last two months, it would seem... understandable at least?

her eyes were heavy. from tears or from lack of sleep, she wasn't quite sure anymore. all she knew was that she'd spent all day working, watching shows, playing games, reading comics... and she had grown sick of all these distractions. probably because she knew these were distractions only, and once she'd burned through all of them, she'd have no choice but to sit amidst the questions she couldn't ask, the words she couldn't type, the feelings she couldn't send.

so she just limply sat there, laptop on her stomach, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. she needed to find a way to sleep. should she touch herself? take some pills? sock herself in the face? in her mind, she was a mere audience to the internal debate about which option was the most logical. she didn't trust herself enough to make the right decision.

next thing she knew it was 5 am and the normally pleasant light that faintly shone through the windows felt too harsh. she couldn't sleep with the lights on, and now that the sun was up, sleeping had become virtually impossible.

except it hadn't. she fell asleep when she least expected it.

so maybe forgetting about him and the time they had together wasn't all that impossible too. maybe she'd finally be able to let it go when she least expected it.

2:14 pm, the computer time read.

maybe sleep was all she needed. it wasn't a suprise that she'd dreamt of him for the nth time. so she forgave herself for keeping him in the back of her mind; it wasn't like she could pilot her subconscious.

she opened their chatbox. and she sent a song instead of some lousy greeting that she had unknowingly formed the habit of sending. she tried to break tradition, hoping it would make it less meaningful.

"saw you in a dream - the japanese house. hahahaha"

but who was she kidding, really? she put all her feelings in those words. and she could kid herself all she wanted, unnecessarily announcing out loud and to nobody in particular (except to herself) that she was ready to accept their fallout. but she knew that if he responded, she'd be back at square one.

so did she want him to message her back? or was she hoping he'd ignore her again?

did she want them to pick up where they left off like nothing happened? or did she want to move on?

she didn't really know what she wanted.

12:07 am, the computer time read.

no response. and she was in for another long night of -

"i wish i'd stop dreaming about you like this"