depressing thing I wrote :D

(Heyy this was something I wrote after a lil breakdown lolz plz excuse any typos hope u like)

Night Owl

I consider myself a night owl. On a typical night, you'd find me staying up till the wee hours of the morning, getting little if any sleep. Then I go about my day as if I haven't been up for hours. 

the only bad thing about staying up so late is you eventually run out of things to do or think, and the thoughts you've been avoiding all day creep into your mind, like a predator pouncing on its prey.

Today the thoughts I've been avoiding are ones of loneliness, due to a separation from my mother. it had been months since the last I'd seen her, but the feeling didn't start to linger till she called the other night.

This intense feeling of sudden dread washed over me and stayed, only seconds after she started talking I could feel myself holding back tears. I shouldn't have been, I was happy I was talking to her, but for some reason, it couldn't help but feel bitter sweat. The call was pleasant, I talked about my day and she did hers, telling me about the hospital she's staying in. It ended with a mutual goodnight and that was it.

Even so, I still find myself sitting on this bathroom's toilet crying till I have no more tears left to give. Staring blankly at the muted pink, magnolia tiles that are poorly caulked to the wall. Continuously ripping more and more clumps of toilet paper from the holder, in a helpless attempt to stop the tears from pouring down my face. 

At some points, standing hunched over the sink giving weak glances toward the mirror, only making the situation worse. The sight of my red, pond-like eyes a reminder of my pain. My sniffles, a reminder this home is filled, with a family peacefully tucked into the beds, blissfully unaware of the depressing display of vulnerability currently taking place in their downstairs bathroom. The silence being a physical representation of the fact I was alone, not only no one awake to hear my sobs, but no empathetic ear to hear my pain. 

Being here is hard. This place is one that belonged to a family, a house they get to own. One they get to live in together. Something that for me, only seems to be able to exist in my dreams. Something I've begged for gods to bless me with for the past 2 years. The one thing I've stayed craving since I lost it, a home where I get to live with my mother and siblings. Being here is a reminder of what I don't have, a place together with the ones I love.

The only sounds that could be heard were ones from the house itself, the random sounds from fridges, and squeaky floorboards. Though the most prominent one still came from a person, the sounds of controlled breathing and tired weeps. Sounds that would normally be excluded from this house, not to be heard at such early hours of the morning, or to only be reserved for tragedy. 

But today these sounds were being made by a girl, a girl who should be fast asleep on the couch but instead is here. In this bathroom, with a faucet turned on. Not the normal one that pours water down a sink, but one that flushes out agony and discomfort. Starting streams that extend, then drip, to marinate her lover's hoodie.

Till finally after what feels like a lifetime of waiting, it runs dry, and a needed moment of peace replaces the sorrow. And I just sit there, not thinking much of anything, before throwing away my last tear-filled tissue and heading back to my crudely made bed on the couch. 

(one last thing I originally wrote this on Wattpad sooo if u wanna support its Justina_not_ok ok luv ya byee)