When it's dark...

I am in bed. It's dark. Every one's asleep but me. The rhythmic breathing of the one next to me is really only the sounds I am hearing save for perhaps a lone car or two out on the highway 2 miles away.

I used to beg for nights like this. My head so full of thoughts, sounds, ideas, noise. Just pointless noise. And when I would finally settle myself a ships foghorn or the rain would lumber through, or the coyotes would make their presence known.

But not tonight. It's dark and quiet. And I gotta say I'm not really liking it.

Not so much.

I'm trying to figure out what it is about this deafening silence I'm not comfortable with. Maybe it's my own thought process that's bugging me. Perhaps it's my secret fear of dying. Or my husband dying. Or maybe I am straining unconsciously to hear if my son is up. Or waiting for that in the middle of the night calls that we all dread if we have older parents.

Or maybe it's the gas rolling around in my gut protesting about the shitload of onions I had for dinner.

Who knows. I just know I am awake on the dark all by myself and I don't like it.