i stare at the blank white ceiling above me. it's been hours and i still can't fall asleep.
i shouldn't be surprised, though. i've been like this for as long as i can remember. but for some reason, i still hope that one night i can sleep like a normal person. without taking tons of pills and fearing what my mind will come up with as a dream.
however, i don't really think i can call them dreams. what i have are more of nightmares.
oh but don't worry too much, i don't have them every single night. only the nights where i can fall asleep.
"can't sleep?"
the sound of a soft, feminine voice makes me jump. i sit up in my bed, looking to where the sound came from. standing in the doorway is my mom.
"you scared me, momma." i tell her, a laugh shaking my chest.
"i'm sorry, lee." she walks into my room, sitting at the foot of my bed. "i just wanted to check up on you. mom is asleep."
"yeahhh, she goes to bed way earlier than i do." i tell her, "but then again, almost everybody does."
momma frowns then. the topic of my insomnia oftentimes upsets her. she thinks that i shouldn't have to go through this. she claims that it sounds too miserable.
to me, it's normal. i don't feel any different than i always do.
"anyway," i say, changing the topic. "i'm assuming you just got home?"
momma works at the children's hospital. she's a nurse. her shifts are always at night so she comes home early in the morning.
for example, it's about three in the morning right now.
"yeah," she sighs, running her fingers through my hair, admiring the blonde color.
"tell me about it!" i smile.
she knows how much i love hearing about her stories from the hospital. about all of the kids who come in to visit her.
when i was little, i thought she was a superhero. i mean, who wouldn't? her career is literally just to save lives.
she saved mine.
"a little boy came in today." she begins, "he was seven years old. his mom and dad couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. they told me that he doesn't breathe like a normal kid. he's bad at sports and all other athletic things. and he runs out of air too quickly to play with his friends." she gives me a smile, "do you think that you can guess what's wrong with him?"
"so, you said he has issues breathing?" i ask.
she nods in response as i think.
"do you give up?" momma asks me, giggling at how hard i'm thinking about this.
"no!" i laugh, "not yet!"
there's so many possibilities. he could have lung cancer, pneumonia, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), the flu, bronchitis, or he could—
"asthma." i tell her with a grin, completely confident in my final answer. "the boy has asthma."
"hmm..." she brings her hand to her chin, thinking. lightly, her index finger taps her skin. "does he?"
"just tell me!" i complain as she laughs at me.
"you're right, dear." she leans forward, pressing her lips to my forehead. "you're such a smart girl. now, let this big brain of yours get some sleep."
both of my moms love to treat me like i'm a kid. like i'm still their little girl. i'm not. i'm almost eighteen; i'm almost a legal adult.
but honestly? i don't care. they can treat me however they want. my moms love me and i love them. im so lucky to have been raised in such a healthy household like this one.
☆ ★ ☆