An insomniac's thoughts

It is nearly three am and I am awake, I was up late baking and reading, not something so out of the ordinary for me, but…. I read an interesting line.
“There is never anything to be gained by taking an easy road. (Unless, of course the road is an easy one to begin with. Roads sometimes are.”
Are roads every meant to be easy? Have I just never noticed the easy ones? Life is what it is, op perhaps it is what I make of it. Life, my life is what I choose. I have free will, an ability to choose, have I made good ones?
I want so much to be a good person, but am I? I want so much to walk an honest path, an honorable path, and a path that I can look back on and approve of. More to the point I want to walk a path that my mother would have approved of. I so want her to be proud of my choices, to hear her voice telling me that I am a good person. She was so kind and good; can I ever live up to my own standards of her?
Her voice is in my head, but sometimes it is too silent. Sometimes I don’t know what she would say. Would she tell me to keep moving forward or would she tell me to reevaluate before moving forward?
I long for her voice. I long for her smell. I long for her.
Is it the companionship? She was, and is, my mother. She would talk to me at 2 in the morning if I asked. Is it companionship that I long for or perhaps the appearance of my zivug? Is this what I am waiting for? I am not melancholy, I am just wanting. I want to have a mate. Someone to tell silly thoughts to, someone who will laugh at my odd turns of phrase with me. I want and I long and I wait.
In the meantime I will close the book, turn off the light, and attempt to dream.