In the In Between

Strange things happen late at night when everyone is sleeping. It’s a mind space that really only exists when you’re awake and everyone else isn’t.

I don’t sleep as much as I should or need to. I spend the hours I can’t sleep reading romance novels and creating stories and alternate outcomes in my head. At any given time I could give you a list of the top 15 things I’m most worried about. The time in between is not for happy thinking. It’s where the still waters really do run deep.

Suburbia, where I grew up, was mostly quiet streets. I had a noisy fan and like listening to books on tape far past my bedtime. When I moved to the city, into an apartment with shitty windows, it was a relief to my mind some nights. When it’s quiet, my brain doesn’t like it. There must be noise, or it will create noise.

There are things made to help with sleep. Drugs, herbal tea, meditation etc, etc. But I think my mind has grown to crave the space in between. It claims inspiration in the white space of life. It hungers for the times I’m desperate to shut it down. A rebel through and through.

Statistically, I am at a higher risk of dying in my sleep than the average person. It’s a thought that provides ample fodder on nights when nothing else is cranking through my brain. When I do drift off, I could be awoken at any time by my body’s alert system screaming of imminent danger. Or, someday, maybe not. If you were wondering what some of the things on my list of 15 things to worry about were.

In the time in between night and day, you learn things about other people you’d never learn in the light or the dark. You learn them by thinking of people far more in-depth than they maybe even think of themselves. You crave absolute knowledge or you crave complete blankness. There is no space for teasing leads when all there is, is time for thinking.

Most of the time, I crave the service of a shut-off switch in my brain. But, some of the time, I wonder if I’m not meant to live in between. If my ideas and drive and personality feed in the nebulous grew of others’ dreams. If I’m no longer wondering what could happen after everyone else has gone to sleep, when will I wonder?


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