Sleepless In Portsmouth

Two o’clock in the morning, four hours before I go to work and I cannot sleep. My mind is filled with images that should not really be there. We are standing in an airport my wife and I in a different country looking for faces I hope I might recognise. There are people all around us, but those we are looking for they are not there. My wife is getting panicky. We are strangers in a strange land. For a month, I have had no contact with those whom we are to meet. I keep thinking of my friends and wondering have they forgotten me? It is just a dream I hope that will not turn into reality. Still I am not tired no matter what I do. I close my eyes again, but still no sleep comes. Even if I can fall asleep, the desertion dream comes again. Nothing wants to make it go away. Here I sit cigarette in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, sleepless in Portsmouth. Anxious. Hoping what I am dreaming isn’t going to come true. Excitement some might call it, but dread is my word for it. The loss of communication points to its possibility. Is what I am dreaming a warning of my future reality? My life seems in tatters and there is nothing I can do. I am left in a limbo with so much unsaid and my torment goes on and on. While all the time I am saying to myself, come on David get back to bed. How can I? When all I see is nothing at the other end waiting for me. I am now beginning to wonder if this was all a mistake and what will be waiting for us when we touch down after nine and a half hours in the air. All I can do is pray is someone will say something to ease the anxiety I am feeling. In the mean time, I will remain sleepless in Portsmouth. 15 May 2009