Depression

As I laid down for my seventh depression nap of the day, only thought bounced around in my head. I miss wanting to be awake.

I miss the overexcited stomach of butterflies I got in grade school every night before a field trip. How adrenaline would flow through my veins and endorphins would flow through my brain simply because I would get to meet baby goats the next day.

I miss the endless whispered converstations, stories, and laughs shared every time my friends and I tried to sleep. How we would stay up to dawn, making out bodies miserable simple because our hearts didn't want the fun to end just yet.

I miss staying up all night to talk over the phone to the farway lover. How three thousands miles couldn't stop our attraction each other and we felt invincible because of it.

I miss that. Where did it go? I think it fell somewhere between the cracks of the backstabbing, the break-up, and the heartache.

Being awake means I have to face all that. I think I'd rather be asleep.