Waking

It has been a while since I came here. I don't really know the reason why I came back, just like the same reason why I left in the first place. Perhaps it is a sence of longing for something old and familiar. Like your old bedroom, someone once said. Indeed I needed something familiar. Like the old walls and the wood grain of my old bed. The walls may have been painted over many times over the years and many may have slept on the bed that used to be mine, but it felt like I've never left. A space to hold all my happiness, fears, frustrations and secrets. If only the walls could speak. Within these four walls, I have spoken to You many times. I truly believe that these trials You brought to us is meant to get us ready for bigger and better things in the future. Some days are harder than others. Days where I don't get out of bed for days and the minutes crawl by at a glacial speed. The stinging silence that hurt my head so much I wished I could open it and empty out its content like a can of soup. Days where those little yellow pills in blister packs by my bedside invitingly calls for a slumber orgy. Days where the cry to quit hails so loud it sounded real. But still, somewhere deep buried down, a little muffled voice said almost breathlessly, it's not your time.