4:30 am

sometimes, pain comes at 4:30 am, when it’s too late to go back to sleep and still too early to wake up. I must have blacked out from pain the night before, because I don’t remember sleeping. Sometimes, the medicine wears off before it’s time to take the next one. Sometimes, the medicine does not work.

At least, the pain is different now.

pain used to be waking up at dawn, with the man you were afraid you’ll be spending your life with, asleep with his arms around you. and you ask yourself, what if you’ll be happier somewhere else?

Then, pain became waking up at dawn, wondering why the hell you can’t see that this guy with his arms wrapped tightly around you, loves you so much, and in his own way, he’s showed you a million times just how special you are. And you hate yourself for not seeing; for asking too much.

Then pain became waking up at dawn, knowing the same man you thought wanted to spend his life with you changed his heart. You watch him sleep and wonder how all the love you thought he had for you just suddenly slipped away. And you ask yourself, have I been right all the time? Is this why it was so hard for me to see?

Then pain became waking up at dawn, knowing that this same man who changed his heart was the same home you were looking for all your life. That he was the one you’ve always wanted to come home to, even before you met. That you’re not happier somewhere else. But it was too late. You were not his home anymore. And you wonder if you ever really were.

Then pain became waking up at dawn realizing that he’s not there, and finally accepting that he’s not coming back.

At least now, the pain is just physical. Pain that can be cured.