I used to have this habit with my sister, with whom I used to share my bedroom too, to talk in the middle of the night. When you have five years of difference you grow up to have less things in common. Sometimes we used to pass several days without exchanging any words of importance other than "wake up we have to go to school" and maybe some comments about the meal for the lunch. Each of us had her own little world in which she was consumed. Then in the night, we go to the same room, adjacent beds, big beds I may add now that I experience a way smaller one. And as we turn off the lights and settle down under the covers, few minutes of silence break up into long conversations. As if we're out of the silence and we need to use as many words as possible before the day breaks taking us back to our own little lives.
I guess, this is one of those times where I just need to talk.. It's not easy to live by yourself, no matter how independent it may seem, how liberating it could be.. It's not as easy as I thought at least.. When the urge to talk at three o'clock in the morning ravages you, and you look around to find nothing close to being alive except the air conditioner that keeps humming, and the fridge that lights up every time you open it, only then, you feel alone.. Only then, you realize that you're not as close to success as you thought, and that your years of achievement are still far beyond being recognized, because anyway, there's no one around to recognize them for you..
I'm not down at this moment, I'm not sad, and I'm not lonely.. I'm just awake, needing to babble at three o'clock of the morning..