sleepless

just when i start to doze off, i am reminded of you. i get cold all over and i am forced to get up from bed. i light a cigarette while shushing the whisper of guilt that you hate it when i sneak a smoke. you hate it when we go out and i teasingly say that i want a cold beer to go with my chicken. so i order a coke instead. you hate it when i want to hold your hand while walking around the mall. so you take my frickin' elbow. you hate it when i make goo-goo eyes at you in front of other people. so i've learned to arch my eyebrows simultaneously, hey, even successively, and look like i'm really into what you're saying. i even taught myself to dig the pc games you so loved just so we had something more in common. well, isn't that what i'm supposed to do? make myself into the barbie doll of your dreams?
like the fool that i've always been for you, i took it all in stride. love was a sacrifice, right? seven years and six months of pseudo-happiness. i must admit it wasn't always this way. i used to be actually happy. i WAS actually happy with just following you around like a stupid puppy, so the lousy cliché goes. but i'm not a barbie doll. i'm not even the skinny type. well, i used to be until nuggets and french fries were all i ate for lunch at work. i'm sure you wouldn't believe me that i starved myself to death just to look like your friends' girlfriends who discuss lipstick brands like they were talking about the latest Bush-Kerry debate. haha. i had a 22-in. waistline then. i haven't even weighed myself recently so pardon me if i'm as big as a cow. it was hard pretending not to be smart, and to know all about what's in the latest issue of Cosmo or Vogue when i'm the most fashion-stupid person around.
but no. that's all in the past. i'm on my seventh cigarette and it's almost 2am in the morning. i still have to go to work in a few hours. i'm trying so hard right now to recall the dies felices (happy days) but my mind draws a blank. i convince myself that i'm not affected by your not calling nor coming over. unfortunately, i am. but i'm so scared to pick up the phone and call you and break it to you gently that "I (truly) AM NOT HAPPY ANYMORE". knowing that when i do, you'd be all "hi skie!" like nothing happened and you'd just shrug off my "i'm not happy anymore" spiel. it's been a vicious cycle and we both know it. it has to end sometime. soon is best.
i'm lighting my last cigarette. raccoon eyes isn't a fashion trend nowadays.