SHORT STORY: INSOMNIA

Shadows played on the ceiling. Thoughts raced. But all I wanted was sleep.

I should shut off my alarm, I thought to myself. I don't need to be up for anything.

I moved to find my alarm in the dark.

No, I stopped myself, If I sleep in, it'll only make it harder to fall asleep tomorrow.

I turned back over and resumed staring at the ceiling. I should be use to the insomnia by now, but for some reason I wasn't. Still, thoughts and ideas churned through my mind preventing my from being able to drift off to sleep. Faces of people I knew, places I'd visited, even a few imagined events, all good memories. And always, there was her. Every one of my memories, she was by my side, smiling, laughing, crying. Through thick and thin.

I chuckled at the memory of the time we climbed to the top of the school's flagpole on a dare, and got stuck. The clasps that held the flag hooked around our pants and we got flipped upside down. Unfortunately, we'd climbed the pole in the middle of the night and had to hang there for hours before someone noticed.

We don't do things like that any more, I thought, sighing. We don't do much of anything these days.

Still, she slept peacefully in the bed and I couldn't complain.

At least she still keeps me around.

The room was quite different these days than before when we still spent every waking moment together. The doll house and its occupants were the first to go, replaced by the vanity and accompanying makeup. Then the clothing began to change, throwing out the little dresses and bringing in the jeans and T-shirts. Finally the general mess and clutter took over everything else.

I rolled over, careful not to disturb her slumber, and lied facing her. She looked so at peace when she slept. Unlike how she looked most days when she was awake. Sure, our carefree days of childhood were pretty much behind us. She had a job now, some would even call it a career.

When was the last time we actually talked? I asked myself.

Of course there was the general, 'how was your day?', 'how was work?', and so on, but that didn't really count. At times I wondered if perhaps she was bitter about my not being able to work. I knew she hated it whenever I came to visit her at the office and after the first couple of times, ending with her shouting at me, she's just ignored me whenever I turned up. I can't help it, though, I get so lonely sitting at home alone all day.

I could leave her, I thought, not for the first time.

The outside world held the thrills and adventures I'd been longing for ever since we'd grown up and stopped exploring. She'd probably be just fine without me, she might even be better off.

I sighed and rolled back onto my back. But how would I survive? I can't really do anything on my own. I need her like she needs air. She just doesn't need me much if at all any more.

I'm just being melodramatic, I told myself and rubbed my face with my hands, hoping to massage some sleep into my eyes. It didn't work.

Do you want me around? I thought, looking over to where she lay.

“Of course I do,” She muttered sleepily.

We never do anything together anymore, I thought.

“Having you around is nice,” She said, still slurred through half-moving lips.

I need more than that, though.

She didn't say anything more and her slow, rhythmic breathing returned to normal.

I think it would be best if I left, I thought, Regardless of the consequences.

I started to crawl out of the bed.

“Don't go,” She murmured and her hand caught hold of mine.

You don't want me, I said, Not really.

“I still need you,” She said.

I hesitated. Could I believe her? She was asleep, of that I was certain, so whatever she was saying she believed to be true. Or, at least true from the perspective of her subconscious.

I don't think you do, I told her, pulling my hand free. I'm holding you back. You need to meet other people, date more, maybe even get married, I paused, choking up and trying to hold back the tears. And you can't do any of that with me hanging around, getting in the way.

A few tears slid down her cheeks but she never woke up as I walked out of the room and down the hall.

Twenty-six is far too old, I assured myself as I got nearer the front door, For anyone to have an imaginary friend.

With that I stepped out of the apartment, relieved that I was finally taking this step, and ceased to exist.