Camping

I’m cold. It’s the first thing I realize when I wake up. The second is that I should be asleep and I’m not. Did I mention I hate camping? Not only is it dark outside and again I say cold. Here in nature lacks the noise of civilization. I find it far from peaceful. Animals are not quiet. Insects continue to buzz even with the moon shining bright. Of course for many of them, it’s time to be awake. I wish I could say the same.

I want sleep. Need it too if the bags under my eyes are any indication. I’m too young for them to be permanent. A good skin care routine can only do so much.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go camping alone while already under the influence of sleep deprivation. Or was it alcohol? I’m too tired to remember. I don’t drink much. Dehydration only makes things worse.

I stare up into the darkness. A tent covers me. This I know though I can’t see. A flashlight rests right beside my head. I grab it and go out into the night.

The moon is full. I’ve noticed it often enough. Tonight the light of it helps. A clear reminder of the night. Clouds surround it. The weather forecast reported a clear night. I would not be out here otherwise.

This is the last time I intend to go camping alone. Next time I’ll bring a group. Or anyone really. On second thought, I’ll never go camping again. There’s no need. It doesn’t help.

It’s cold, dark, and I can’t sleep. And there’s no one to talk to. There’s never anyone to talk to. Not really. No one who understands what’s wrong with me. I’m not sure about it myself.

Now that I’m awake, my brain is wired. Now I fear rehashing every thought and insecurity I’ve ever had. Maybe it would be better from the comfort of my own bed. I’d certainly be warmer.

I take a deep breath. Then another and another until I drift back off to sleep.

I dream of water. It should be pretty. Like a river or an ocean but it isn’t. there’s a storm and I’m caught in the middle of it. How I don’t know. It makes no sense. I’m much to scared of drowning to ever consider a ride on a boat.

When I wake up again I’m colder than before. Strange. I remember reaching for a blanket. I look down to see I’ve carried the heavy weighted thing cover with me.

Outside? How did I get outside? I was sleeping. And now I’m not. It’s darker than before. Closer to midnight. The moon from earlier is hidden behind the clouds.

I look across the way. One thing is visible and only one thing. A flowing wisp of white. From the distance, I can’t tell what it is. A person, place or thing? My vision limited even by the light of day is even more so in the dark.

Nothing moves. The noises I keep hearing are those I’ve heard all along.

I’m cold and tired I remind myself. I’m seeing things. The mind plays tricks when it’s tired. I try not to think about how sometimes it does even when it’s not.

No one else is in the tent when I retreat inside. I feel the flashlight bump against my leg. Despite its bright capability, I wish it was a lantern. I peak my head outside again to find nothing there.

For the third time that night, I attempt sleep, which doesn’t come until the first rays of the sun.