I'm not sleeping because I can't. But I can't because I don't want to. Does that make sense?
Sleeping is wasted time. It is time that makes Thursday come faster.
I don't want Thursday to come faster because a part of me doesn't want it to come at all.
I don't think it has hit me yet. My room is half packed and my check-out sheet is half checked.
Somehow though, reality has not set in and I sit here with the door open and the lamp on pretending that in three nights from now, I will not be sitting at home.
There won't be week long periods where I will not see the people that I have grown up with in the last two years. I won't miss any parties or conversations. I won't miss out on any inside jokes or funny things. Like when Paul fell off the Colgate ((and the pier)) or when Hillary peed on the limo.
I won't be left out or forgotten about.
...because that would be sad.
And right now, I don't want to be sad. I just want to sit here with the door open and the lamp on, pretending that change is not right around the corner evesdropping on my solemn thoughts.