almost five.

Almost five. My mouth is dry and my head already aching from the wine. I feel in the darkness for the distinguishably soft swish of my dry fit shorts. Making my way for a glass of water I already inhale the scent of fresh brewing coffee from my door. I wonder if insomnia is contagious... Back under the covers I find a pen and my journal had their way with me and were still in bed beside me. My moonlit walk to the beach earlier still lingers. Something so free about crashing waves and a crisp wind rather than typically muggy summer nights. Makes me wonder where I belong.... what is holding me back?