It's quiet nights like these that drive me insane. Sometimes I wonder why I fear to do things I shouldn't be afraid of and vice versa. How paradoxical this faith is. 

Lately, I feel like I've been flitting in and out of a dream. I hate the night as much as I love it - for at night, it's when work is put to rest and the social butterfly in me comes out for tag-team. Simultaneously, it's the reluctance to end the day and the exponential horror at the mere thought that just that very morning, I was uttering a heart-felt prayer for time to stay still. Yet, things are never at a stand-still. 

So what really happened and what really didn't? It's probably nothing to fret over, but it's still something to ponder on. I feel the change, despite not seeing it just yet. It's the deep crawl that threatens to take over the havoc inside my own head. I know I laugh it off a lot, but I think it's coming back.  

They tell me what happens to a person changes them. What if the change is the cause of what happened? I've finally realized how much a person can lie to themselves - to the point where I question if it even happened or not.