Of Things That Go Boo in the Night

Of late, the urge to write in the wee hours of the night has returned. Over the last few nights, the urge has been quite insistent; I must comply.

Resistance is futile.

The quiet nights have not been good to me recently. It doesn't help that I am a late sleeper, most awake and lucid in the hours surrounding midnight; a legacy inherited from my father. Too many thoughts I'd rather not have come unbidden, and unwelcomed. Often, they're set off by the smallest and seemingly most insignificant of things.

I read something on the Internet one day. Something completely geeky and inane, but humourous enough for me to immediately want to share it with somebody. The only person I knew who would've understood and laughed with me was him. Unfortunately, calling him is no longer an option.

The thing I wanted to share with him has long since been forgotten. I can't even remember the gist of it. But the yearning to share things with him again remains.

I miss him still. Sometimes. Often. Mostly when there's something I want to share. Often, it's something so exceedingly geeky or nonsensical, nobody else I know would really get it. He used to thoroughly indulge me my whimsical side. I loved him endlessly for that. I loved him for a lot of things.

I had a really nice day today. I had dinner & coffee with my girls like we hadn't had in a long, long time. It was... it was love.

But much as I enjoyed myself, and much as I love my girls, it didn't help fill this hole in my heart.

I missed him today. I took the long way home from dinner, a long drive around town, one full of memories. I missed him so much.

But I can't help but wonder if it is just having someone to share things with that I really miss, and not the person itself? Some days, that seems so clear. Other days, the two are one and the same.

I wonder if he misses me this way too sometimes. I try not to think about it though, because whether he does or not at all, it still hurts a little too much.