Sleep's Not Comin' Easy For A While...

I withhold sleep from myself.
Or that is how it happens. I wonder if it is just because it's the closest I can come to harming myself without breaching my contract. If it's something I can control as some sort of pseudo-revenge scheme. Or perhaps its just that when I get into these moods, the need for sleep eludes me.
I remember back then, when they talked to me, when they were always talking to me, before they stopped. I would never sleep, or so it seemed. I wonder how I stayed alive. I would only be thinking - About what they said, about it's implications, how on Earth I could get back to them.
Every night it was the same thing.
"Take me home."
Until eventually it just became,
"Take me away from here."

Now, I know this will never happen. At least not while I'm alive. But when I do think about them, I still won't sleep. Who doesn't appreciate a call from home, after all?

It's not just because she left. Or it is. Either one, I'm not sure. But I don't want to sleep, because I want to do stuff. But I don't want to do stuff, because she is not mine. As if I am lost if everything I do cannot somehow be related to her. I want to experience things, but I think that knowing I can still experience things without her love, would hurt deeply. Perhaps its the mere fact that I have to, that's the problem.

Thinking of sleeping hurts, thinking of staying awake hurts.
If only there was a way to escape the pain.