3AM

Sometimes I think I’m the only one awake at three in the morning. I’m obviously not, but it feels like all of the other people who are awake at this time feel exactly what I feel. I wonder exactly what they’re contemplating, if they’re reminiscing on past memories that once made them smile, I wonder if they’re happy and content or if they’re just sitting there with tears streaming down their cold cheeks.

I try to make sure I’m asleep at this time no matter what. Three in the morning has a weird effect on me. I’m either creating (what I think is) amazing art, pouring out my thoughts on the face of a blank page, reliving past moments, overthinking to a whole new level or just revisiting old thoughts and with that, old feelings. 
I am at peace with myself at three in the morning, but paradoxically I’m consistently in war with myself.
 Wondering what I’m doing with my life, whether I’m wasting the precious moments given to me because my days are numbered, just like anybody elses. A cold blanket sweeps over my head and hugs my body. It confines me in ways I’m not aware of and makes me question when was the last time I truly smiled and meant it. 
Sometimes it gets really bad and I close my eyes only to wake up in the morning. No sleep. Just closed eyes, pretending to do what the rest of the world does at three in the morning.

Sometimes I feel like packing my stuff and leaving at three in the morning. I’ll come back, but I don’t know where I’d go. Maybe I’d take the next flight to San Fransisco, or London, where I’d rather be.. Or maybe even India. I won’t leave a message or tell anybody where I’m going. I’d just disappear for a while, change my name when I order coffee every time. Shave my head. Meet strangers, fall temporarily in love at three in the morning on an unlit, cold street and kiss them for hours. I’d forget my shoes at home and I won’t wash my make-up off for a week. There’d be nobody to impress, nobody to explain myself to, nobody to convince.. Nobody at all.

But then I remember that this is reality and reality doesn’t work that way. At three in the morning, the urge to slip into a world far away from here is the most powerful; a world I have created and claim as my own.

So I close my eyes and pretend to dream instead, knowing there’s a chance I’ll bump into three in the morning tomorrow.