Alas a final touch! Its strange laying for hours waiting for solitude, for your exit.  Of course the time has been reveled in and oh the apprize! But somehow I disesteem your warm arm over me. It can be so hard. Always hard to really love when you just want to be alone. Its so hard to be alone at night and the wind is blowing or the snow is gathering on the outside of your sill. It can be hard. Although I like you here, I find pleasure in your goings a while after your comings. It can be so hard to love.