He says that's the good thing about sleep, it takes it all away. To me all I hear is sleep takes everything from him, his sadness, stress, me. I doubt in sleep, he misses me, but in mine, I miss him. Maybe all these months before where I dread sleep, my body and mind was really, getting ready for this? It is rather advance I must say.
It fears and despise sleep, because at this point on most days, sleep is chosen over me. My mind and body knows so way back before I could think of the reason why. I am separated from a certain part of my mind and my body isn't always mine. I should've known, maybe I have all along but was rather, unaware.
Maybe there was a life before, in a parallel world or another universe, a distant time, where while I spent my days sleeping, he could not, and he too dreaded it the way I had and now, it was my turn.
I've lived current weeks hating sleep on days where I wanted it the most, for so long if I could. It's the thought of what I'd miss if I did that stops me. Every single time. Who knows, in the end I am just wasting my time.
Who cares? No one but me. I wish I wasn't the only one.