Late Night Doubts

I can’t stand being up like this thinking.  I’m happy, so blissfully happy and then I’m sitting here rethinking everything at 1am.  I’m rethinking my choices and I feel like an idiot.  I feel stupid and I hate my creeping doubts.  Why do doubts gang up at 1am?  I miss him and I hate that I’m rethinking everything and he’s so far away.  Things that shouldn’t bother me are chewing at the edges.  I felt better today and clearer and I got new evidence that I am a big dumb dog.  Maybe it’s nothing.  Maybe it’s something I accepted long ago, but tonight I’m asking if I should have.  Maybe that doubt is right.  Maybe I need to wake up.  Maybe it only feels like all the things I want are possible in my own addled mind.  Maybe I’m setting myself up.  Maybe I’m making it all up.  “Maybe I’m only seeing what I want to see” whispers the cynic.  The cynic is often not right, but the cynic is rarely hurt.  It’s tempting to go there and to let my mind run these halls, but it’s not where I dwell and not where I want to live.  So what if risk often leads to ruin?  Sometimes it doesn’t, right?

I’m hurt and I’m limping a little tonight and that’s why I’m doing this.  I’m taking the little hole and worrying it larger. But I caught myself.  I see this for what it is.  I need to work it out in myself.  I need to talk to him.  I need to stop worrying about what this means.  I need to just realize I’m wanting to protect myself.  I want to hole up and withdraw and put up my rather formidable defenses and I’m looking for a reason.  I am good at finding what I’m looking for.  My mind is a powerful enemy or friend.

And then he sends me a message.  He saw me online and knew I was waiting for info.  I don’t wanna derail any time of fun with his friends so I don’t say anything.  It’s a vacation and he needs it.  It really can wait.  We talk about nothing for a bit and I’m wanting to prolong the conversation and to cut it off.  He tells me about his night and his plans, and he says exactly what I need him to say and can’t ask for.  I try so hard not to be a chick but I am at rare times.

He tells me he’s going watch curling until he falls asleep and says I should get some sleep too.  He tells me he loves me and uses my name.  He wishes me sweet dreams and sends me a kiss.  It’s a small thing, but my mind is a very good ally or foe and it picks that up and says it’s evidence that I need to stop worrying about this.  And it is.  I need some sleep.  I’m not going to figure anything out tonight and 1 am is a bad time for clear and helpful thinking.  Sweet dreams lover.  Sweet dreams worry.  Sweet dreams evidence pro and con.  There is plenty of time for worrying tomorrow.  There is plenty of time to move on too.  Sweet dreams risk and reward and cynic.  All of you stop spinning now.  Sweet dreams.


  1. Ps. Last week I was lamenting to SMF how I didn’t know what to write about and how you never seem to run out of material that is both intetesting and relevant. “Which one is she?” He asked. “The one with the really nice ass?”

    Yep. That’s her. 🙂


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