I can’t sleep. The stress is still there and now I feel guilty for snapping at him. Plus, my entire body hurts. The pain rolls through me in waves. Stupid RA.
I get up, use the bathroom, and pop some Benadryl. It’ll help make me sleep.
At some point, we begin messaging each other. Both of our answers are terse. The medicine is starting to kick in and make me loopy. In my haze, I spit out what I really wanted to say in the first place. I tell him what I need from him. He readily agrees and reminds me that I should never feel hesitant to talk to him. We continue chatting until I can no longer fight the meds and then I fall asleep.
When I wake up the next morning, I feel better. Lighter. Not as stressed. The same problems are there but they’re not bothering me. I make another promise to myself- to break my original one. There’s no reason to keep pushing Daddy away.