If only I could escape to sleep. If I could but fall into it’s waiting embrace, and be pulled down into sweet, numbing blackness. The only place you do not run from me is in my dreams. But, what bitter irony, sleep is but a distant dream indeed.
I exhausted myself yesterday, and yet, even with a respectable day’s work, 2 entire books, and 3 sleeping pills, it still escapes me. Here I sit at here at nearly 7 am, with my head pounding and my eyes blearing and for the life of me cannot seem to grasp it. Even my nightmares are preferable to this miserable wakefulness. Sweet relief, I beg of you, claim me for at least an hour or two. I haven’t slept a full night in nearly two months. For the love of God, I just want to sleep. The only time I get any rest is during the day, and it is plagued with constant bouts of waking. I never sleep more than maybe two hours at a stretch, and only then with the aid of pills. I am so tired.
I hate my life.
I saw you today. You were getting in the car. I only saw your legs, wearing those light blue carpenter jeans that you’ve had forever that I love so much. You had your boots on, I think. I thought it was odd, you don’t often wear them unless its for a reason.
K and I were leaving to go out to lunch, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I haven’t a clue what she said for the next 10 or so minutes, all I could think of was you. It was disturbingly symbolic, lately in every dream I have of you, you’re facing away from me and won’t talk to me. I wish I had seen your face. I wonder if you saw me when you came home, I was sitting in the car with K and we were about to pick something up for M and R. I didn’t see you until you had passed, so again, all I saw was the back of your head. I wonder if you noticed I was wearing contacts and not glasses. Or if you thought anything at all.
B came over today. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t say anything at all to him, I wanted to see if he would talk to me. He didn’t, until later when I asked if he was ignoring me. He told me that he wasn’t, that that would be childish. It seemed odd. I couldn’t be around him for long, it made me think of you too much. I had to go sit in my room most of the time he was here.
I hate this silence. I hate it. I want to come home. I want to see your face and not feel like I’m being stabbed each time I do. How long are you going to keep doing this to us? I miss you.
Christian Encounters: Jane Austen by Peter Leithart is a very quick, engaging read. It carries you through Jane’s life and introduces you to the important people around her, and provides insight on how the events of her life, along with the people around her shaped her view of the world. Leithart does a wonderful job of presenting her not just as the pious, saintly woman most of us have heard about, but as a lively, witty, sometimes irreverent and even snarky woman who saw the humor in every situation. Through excerpts from letters and accounts kept by friends and relatives, he paints a picture of her as a woman steadfast in her faith, who, just like the rest of us, is perfectly human.
This book was an excellent read and an interesting look at an author most people are familiar with, but no one really knows. I would definitely recommend it to anyone wanting to learn more about Jane Austen, and it makes a fantastic introduction to her works. Upon reading it, I was compelled to read Pride and Prejudice, and am now working my way through Emma.