I am writing because I can’t sleep; I am writing because I am alone in my bed

Its 2 am and my room is pitch black, so dark I don’t know if my eyes are open or
closed.
The whooshing wind outside tries to tell me to sleep,
The Hush of the night tries to tell me to sleep,
The air is black and blank and ready to absorb my dreams.
But,
I am not ready to slip into the blackness
I am not ready to surrender to the hush
Because I like what I see when my eyes are open
I like what I feel when I am awake
And finally my reality is better than my dreams
This is what it means to live rather than just exist.