Though it has become less frequent with age, my mind has always been the most numb with thoughts at night. They would overlap with each other, argue with each other, talk to me, sing to me – and before I knew it, it would be nearing three in the morning.
Every night, I would watch my sister in the bed beside me sleeping so blissfully – and what’s more, so easily – that I couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration but also frustration at the same time.
“How does she do that?” I would sigh in exasperation, scrutinizing my restless mind, “Why can’t I do the same?”
I would feel quite alone at night.
It felt like I was the only one struggling to sleep, with everyone else in my house in complete silence. Trying to tire out my eyes, I would stare at my Cinderella-patterned wallpapered ceiling for hours. It all seemed helpless; it was like watching paint failing to dry as more buckets of stubborn acrylic pour down from above.
What I didn’t realize, however, was that millions around the world were awake as well, trying to get even a few minutes of shut-eye. As I stare out to the buildings across my building, I am reminded of the fact that the thousands of shining, flickering dots represent people who are rolling around in bed, groaning in frustration, and staring at their wallpapered ceiling like me.
I Want to Spend Late Nights Like Sleeping Beauty
Written by Faustina Yick