1:14am: how am I meant to sleep without his arms around me, without him to lean on, hold, without the sound of his breathing, without being more relaxed than I have been in years.
1:40am: for some reason, he was still awake; does he feel what I’m feeling? That once we’ve been together like that, so close you can’t tell who’s who, you can’t try to go back to sleeping alone.
2:15am: once you’ve experienced something you can never go back to what you used to settle for.
2:27am: the feelings bloom like roses, big and beautiful and sickly sweet, like poison baked into a birthday cake.
4:06am: my lungs are filling with space dust, teeth now shining candelabras; life is documented through post-it notes over everything, my walls, my mirrors, my hands, coloured reminders I can no longer ignore. My eyes only see reflections of my surroundings.
4:33am: nothing seems real.
6:06am: why has life been boiled down to just looking forward to things, and not living in the moment as it is? Who destroyed our ability to enjoy doing nothing?
snapchats from a sleepless night without you.