(Untitled)

[morphie]

My mom and I were fighting. Something about me not living up to my responsibilities. I went to bed. I woke up just a little while later and all these storage boxes were on my bed, opened with various contents strewn across the bedding. The lights were on. I wandered around. It was our house in New York, but much more beautiful. I found my mom in

Comments

[nalidoll]

It's called sleep-maintenance insomnia, as opposed to sleep-onset insomnia. I have both.

Dreaming about those who are gone is always such a strange and mixed thing for me. I feel extra guilty about anything unpleasant that happened, and sad when I know they aren't really there. And somehow glad to have seen them again, even just this way. But then I am left with all of the things I wish I had said, instead.

[morphie]

Yeah, that's pretty much exactly how I feel.