backlight

After a very long exhausting day at work, she finally got into her room and let her laptop slide off her shoulders, feeling its thud beneath her feet when it hit the floor. She changed into her favorite fluffy pajamas, and looked at her face. Her now-running makeup was still on, but she decided against removing it. Those two minutes would be better spent sleeping.

She rummaged through her bag blindly as she walked towards the light switch, only turning it off when her phone was within her reach. She then pulled it out and made her way to her bed in the pitch black darkness, trying her best to use her sense of direction to dodge the million things lying on the floor that came her way. Even though she knew fully well that she could very easily use the phone's backlight to find her path, she chose the serenity of the darkness over the convenience of an obstacle-free walk.

When her knee finally hit the side of her bed, she ran her hand over her soft blanket and was amazed at how its fibers seemed to soothe her. Using both hands, she flipped the blanket inside-out and made the soft side face the sheets. She then slipped underneath it, not merely covering herself, but rather wrapping herself up into her blanket. Making herself feel safe. Warm. Protected.

These arent feelings one is supposed to get from a blanket, she thought to herself...

But she quickly dismissed the thought. She was tired. Exhausted. Too exhausted to even do what she does best (and always): think till it drives her...well...mad.

She closed her eyes and stretched her aching body and strained muscles. Its been a rough couple of months for her. Things have been everything but easy. Yet even this much she only enjoyed for a few seconds before remembering that she forgot to set her alarm to 6am for tomorrow. Just like every other day.

She opened her eyes quickly, but just as quickly, she realized there was really no change in the view her back of her eyelids gave her as opposed to the dark room she was now facing. Reaching for her phone, she set the alarm and placed it back on the nightstand, settling back into her position under the blanket. She watched the outline of the room as the phone's backlight reflected on it. The closet, the nightstand, the desk...everything in shades of grey.

There was only one thing missing in the room....her.

Suddenly, the backlight went off and the dawn of blackness interrupted her thoughts yet again. Maybe it was a sign that she should stop thinking? Who is she kidding? She doesnt need a sign to tell her that.

She felt the pain in her back yet again, probably telling her body that she needs to get some rest before tomorrow comes and the cycle starts all over again. She had never been happier with her extremely busy lifestyle as she was now. She had never been happier she doesnt have time for anything as she was when she realized that she doesnt have time to even think.

She closed her eyes one last time, knowing fully well that her tired body would win the battle with her over-analytic brain soon, and that it would only take her a couple of minutes to fall asleep.

She cuddled deeper into her soft blanket, once again hoping it was something else. Or possibly someone else. And thats when that last final thought made her way to her brain.

"A7ib-" she whispered and then paused. The word slipped out of her soft pink lips, surprising her. Where did that come from, she thought to herself, surprised. It must be one of those dying battles that the brain is losing for the body. Its using every last weapon to survive, including throwing in random thoughts and emotions.

And it worked, mind you. She then started thinking of, not the thought, but why it didnt come out of her mouth. Why she stopped halfway through, leaving it hanging there, flapping around like a naked chicken.

And thats when she came to the conclusion that she didnt know what she wanted to hear. Did she want to hear herself say "A7ibik"? Or did she want to hear "A7ibich" coming to her from someone else? Did she want to be loved, or did she want to be in love? Which side of the story did she want to hear, or rather, live?

What was she fantasizing about?

"I love you so much...mwaaaaaaaah" she spoke louder this time, and in English, solving the issue and not specifying the gender. Or the receiver. Or the sender. It was the body's way of shutting the brain up for the night.

And it worked. She slept peacefully that night.



Well, that and the fact that....


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