I know the devil's true name. It's not how the bible refers to him. It's not a name you would normally attach to a being of evil. But, I know it. How? Simply because he reveals himself to me every night. The devil sits on the edge of my bed and whispers his secrets in my ear. He mocks me as he points to the alarm clock and reminds me that I only have two hours to sleep before it's time to start my day. Yes, I know his real name. We're old friends. The devil and I.
His name is Insomia and I hate him.
He likes to pick the magic hour of 3 am to come and visit. He knows this is the hour that I am lost in a daze of thoughts and confusion. He sees this as his opportunity to seize my weaknesses. To play with my emotions. He laughs as I try to pull the blanket around me and cover my ears. He lays beside me and talks of my lonliness as if only he knows how I could feel. I beg for sleep with tears in my eyes. He laughs. If you've never heard Insomia laugh, I can only describe it as chilling. And beautiful. Insomia is my confidant. My companion. In the late night, he is the one that knows my true fears. My heart's desires. Insomia listens in on my prayers to God. He jokingly asks me if I truely believe God will answer the prayers of a sinner such as myself. He spills forth his bone freezing, hypnotic laugh as I meekly reply, "Yes."
The devil's name is Insomia. And I hate him.
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