look what you’ve done.

I lie down on the bed and get into the most comfortable position I know.

And then, I start thinking. And waiting.

I know I have to go to sleep because I usually have to get up early.

But I can’t.

I feel that when I finally close my eyes and drift off, I’d be raising my flag and acknowledging that my day had ended.

And it breaks my heart every night to realize that a whole day had just gone by without me seeing you or talking to you, and that a whole day had gone by without you having thought about me.

“That poem was beautiful.”

I was writing about you.