It is well past eleven.

The heavy silence of the night was broken up by the occasional chirping of crickets, the distant sound of a passing railroad train, and the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting my window. Yet, it remained quiet—the kind of quiet that settled in the air, like a thick fog that surrounded me, constricting my lungs, as if there was no room for air to pass through.

In a way, it didn't bother me much. I find solace in my solitude, a rare moment of peace amidst a world of chaos. 

But within that fog lies another feeling of emptiness; my isolation from this big blue bubble, living alone in my apartment—it suffocates me.

I can remember when this place was more lively, and now it only serves as a reminder of what I lost. I couldn't shake the feeling. 

The clock ticked past midnight. Just when I started to succumb to the sweet embrace of slumber, my cell phone buzzed.

Yolanda. 

She always texted late. Even after a full day of locking eyes with her computer at the pet store she worked at, she focused on anything but herself. Nor me.

Lately, our conversations felt like a game of Pong, back and forth, with the same repetitive rhythm.  She says she’s busy. I say don't worry about it. She reaches out, then pulls away. At times, she sounds distant, cold even, to the point where I wonder if we are better apart than held together. Then, suddenly, she sounds soft. Like she remembers who we are for just a moment. That maybe—just maybe—deep down, there’s still something worth salvaging. That's what messes with me. If I really loved her, I wouldn’t think like this. That’s what I tell myself.

I typed back: 'zzz Talk 2U l8r.' 

But I wasn't going to sleep. I just sat there, staring at my wall with pure guilt eating away at my consciousness. 

There aren't many left in my life. Yolanda's one of the few. Relationships have always been...complicated. They tend to end up being fleeting moments of joy that fade away like nothing. I've spent so much time pushing away what's left that I forgot how to hold on anymore.

I want something to change.

Anything.

Just to break the monotony.

I have a feeling something's coming. 

But I don't know if I'm ready for it.