Eight hours of studying, a coffee and two cokes later, I'm still up at almost 5AM. Fuck.
Why is it that when you lie awake at night, all trains of thought end up at your failures? You never dwell on those comforting memories, the ones you hold dearest in your heart. It's the should-haves and the what-ifs that swirl through your head at a breathtaking speed, each pausing just long enough to rip a chunk out of your self-esteem.
People I've hurt, decisions that went wrong, uncertainty about the future. These are the real demons that dwell in the night, and they're far scarier than the monster under your bed ever was.