In The Middle of the Night

I really wish I could blog tonight. I wish I could blog because the other night was my Grandfather's yarzheit and last night my friends and I gathered for what one appropriately titled "The Comeback", Rachel's return behind our favorite bar. I wish I could blog about how great it was to see her working behind there again and how fun it was to spend the entirety of her shift there to show support. I wish I could. But I just can't. The panic comes to me in the middle of the night. It never fails. I'll start thinking and soon the thinking blurs and there's just panic. Everything races. Everything intensifies. It doesn't seem as though it's ever really over. I just want to sleep. That's all I want to do. Just so it'll go away. I don't want to speak because it might just make things worse. So I put off returning phone calls. And even though I want to sleep I end up wide awake. It's panic's little joke. Rat bastard, that panic. I don't even know what I'm panicking for. Can't really be about school, I've stopped caring about homework. Can't really be about my social life. I don't have much of one. Can't be about my love life - I don't have one. Can't. Can't. Can't. I think. Can. Will. Do. Panic says. The point of this blog was supposed to be to put down all my moments. The special ones that only I get to see, hold, cherish. But for some reason lately, I've become overprotective of them. I don't want to put any of them down. I keep them inside and don't say a word. When my thinking stops, when the talking stops, when the telling of the stories...stops... I know something is wrong. This is where panic leads me tonight.