It’s dark, and my thoughts are all over the place, pulling me in too many directions. It’s hard to focus, to catch a single thought and hold onto it. They keep coming, one after another, distracting me until they all just disappear into nothing.

I keep thinking about you—about where things went wrong and where they went right. It’s hard to sit alone with these thoughts, but I don’t know how to share them either. Most of them are so fleeting, I can’t even fully grasp them. I can’t write them down, process them, or really feel them before they slip away.

Evenings are the worst;

the quiet amplifies the noise in my mind.

And at night, it crescendos.

I lie here, and they race, and race,

and race, and race,

on and on,

relentless.