The Bouncing Marble of Insomnia

I often struggle with insomnia, a hereditary gift from both my parents.  Passing the late-night hours listening to the grandfather clock chime away your coveted sleep is maddingly boring.  My mind weirdly runs down odd trails as out of control as a marble bouncing on a tiled floor and every sound is thoughtfully investigated to determine what in the world is awake at this hour.  The worst part of it is the total helplessness to control or actually, to lose control of my awake-ness.  I seem to be able to make myself be awake but cannot make myself be asleep.  I listen to my lover’s soft breathing, smile at her great good fortune, and quietly wish we could be together during this difficult malady of mine but insomnia is always suffered alone.  My mom used to say that she and dad would pass each other in the middle of the night, one of them getting up, the other going back to bed.  The only thing I pass in the middle of the night is the time I am not asleep.