The clock says 2:47 a.m. I've been lying here for what feels like hours. My phone screen glows faintly, lighting up the corner of the blanket where my hand rests. I keep scrolling but nothing holds my attention. The silence in the room feels louder than the thoughts in my head.
Outside, the street is empty. No cars, no voices, just the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I wonder if other people are awake right now, staring at their own ceilings, wondering why sleep won't come. I wonder if they feel this same quiet ache in their chest.
I close my eyes and try to picture something peaceful, but my mind keeps circling back to the same unfinished things. The emails I didn't reply to. The conversation I left hanging. The way the day slipped through my fingers without anything to show for it.
The night stretches on, and I'm still here, waiting for it to end.