That night was a late night.
And I couldn't sleep.
The bottle of sleeping pills were.
Mocking me.
She worried about.
How much sleep I actually got.
But I told her I was ok.
Sleep never came easy anyway.
I worried too much.
I thought of her too much.
My brain never rested.
I watched her sleep for a while.
On my bed.
Chest rising and falling evenly.
Wondered what went on in her head.
I turned back to my.
Pen and paper.
Thoughts and ideas.
"What are you writing?"
She had asked earlier.
When I tried to hide it from her.
I was writing about her.
I was writing this for her.
And if she knew it was about her.
She would know everything.
I didn't want to be like.
The rest of the guys who.
Made her life difficult by.
Confessing their love.
And begged her to date them.
And treated her poorly.
So I said "Nothing."
And bit my tongue.
So I wouldn't be like Them.
Maybe I was.
Doing her a favor.
Maybe I was.
Doing myself one.
