Anxious As Hell

"Sorry"

It didn't happen as exactly as she had expected it to happen. She couldn't fall asleep easily like the other times. Normally she got worn out by the attacks so much that she would fall into sleep as if she fainted. Not this time. She turned over and over in bed. The sound of the water dripping from the tap might have been the reason. She got up, went to the bathroom and turned off the tap more tightly. She went back to bed.
No. It didn't work. She couldn't put herself to sleep for another half an hour or so. Uh-huh! Of course. The clock on the wall. She got up again, this time with a desperate sigh. She should have found this out earlier. She stepped on the revolving wooden chair which looked as if it was from medieval times and each time you sit on it which gave a loud creak. First she took the clock out of the wall and then the batteries of their place. The clock must have been a piece of antique. It was working too noisily and the timeworn angel motives around its circle made her think so. Had she noticed that before? All the furniture in this dorm seemed pre historical.
No more tick-tacks. Was she being obsessive? Whatever. She needed sleep. She turned to bed with relief.
Guess what? It didn't work, either.
She had to admit to herself that she wasn't going to be able to have a breath of sleep unless she could hear from him.
But why was that? What was she literally feeling for him? Or was she feeling anything at all? Did she like him? Was this love? Was this friendship or a relationship? It was too complicated.
Still, there were things she was sure about. She felt so relaxed and comfortable in his company. She could talk about anything with him, even her past, about which she felt uneasy to talk. She always trusted him. What he thought about issues meant a lot to her. She needed him. For this reason or that, with or without an excuse, she needed him in her life.
This was her reality. No escape. But, were her thoughts mutual? Or should she have said " feelings"? What could tell the difference between feelings and thoughts? Weren't thoughts the result of feelings? Or the other way round? Enough!
All she needed was to hear a word from him. Only then she was going to be able to sleep in peace. Yes. That was it.
She reached for her mobile. Called the last number she had called. Four rings. No answer. He normally used to answer her calls at the first ring. "Must be still angry" she thought as she ended the call.
She wrote "Sorry." in the message line and sent it to him.
At that very moment, she realised how often she used that word with him.