When sleep is no longer a refuge

I've always taken comfort in quiet evenings, just laying in my bed and staring at my star-filled ceiling after a long and tiring day. Those final minutes before I drift to sleep has always been such a joy. I keep a notebook on my beside table precisely for these moments. For these final minutes of absolute clarity. One of my friends posed this question before:

What do you think of just before you go to sleep?

The answer came so easy back when I was in college. I used to think of nothing. Nothing but relief that the day finally came to a close. My work schedule was absolutely insane, and finally getting to shut my eyes at the end of a day was always such a treat. So to say it simply, my answer was "ahhhhh" with a matching smile.

My answer to this question has of course, evolved since then. Interestingly enough, over time it has become a lot more challenging to find peace in what once gave me so much comfort, even if it was only a minute's worth of introspection.

My post-college days has definitely disoriented me big time. Whatever solace I found in silence abruptly vanished, as I found myself running away from its dreaded noise. Facing uncertainty is something I'm not very good at, and having no clear road map, not even a glimpse of a signpost for the nearest pit stop, just overwhelmed me. Instead of confronting it, however, I did just the opposite.

The silence of course, caught up with me, almost swallowing me whole during those final minutes of consciousness.

Suddenly, I started dreaming again. Literally and figuratively. My college roommates will tell you that during our four years together, I was the "one with the dreamless sleep." I was also the girl who sleep talked and said "hellew", but that's a different story.

My quiet nights soon developed a bland, yet recurring title. What future is in store for me? It's nerve wracking and exciting at the same time to consider all the prospects.

Lately, these moments are playing yet another different theme: faces. With August 17/18 coming closer as each day ends, I've found that these last minutes have extended and it now takes a longer time to fall asleep. Each night, a face flashes before my eyes. I see the pair of eyes that I've grown accustomed to spending time with on a very regular basis. I hear the laughs. I feel the strange looks that each face has made a trademark out of. For those who are still out of the loop, August 17/18 are my target dates of departure for my "gap year" in the US.

I am blessed to have a life filled with amazing people and amazing relationships. I cannot imagine not having my default movie date and my default Friday night date at my "disposal." What would a Friday without the ALG be like? A Christmas without co-hosting our crazy reunion? A Sunday without the precocious little Sam? Dinners without sinigang, tinola, and adobo? Saturday lunches without deep fried hito, baked mussels drowning in cheese, and nilaga? So yes, each night gets a tad bit more sentimental, and each night always features a different face.

So I guess the question now is this: what do you do when sleep becomes the bridge for a bittersweet beginning? When sleep continually closes and then opens a new chapter that'll ultimately lead to a sequel? A sequel where the only one left standing is the main character.