Those late-night conversations are what I miss most. Those baring soul-to-soul exchanges.The way the early morning hours encourage honesty and bravery, that the regular day-time simply does not. How “I love you”, “I want you” and “Fuck you” all seem to glide off the tongue. Effortlessly. Ordinarily.
There’s something sacred about being awake with someone, when sleep has enveloped the rest of the world.
Something undoubtedly more private.
Our eyelids linger, longer with each blink. Sticky. Willing us to keep them shut. But sleeping would mean missing out on this. Missing out on you.
Even though it’s long since been extinguished, we continue to light this toxic, exhausted flame.
Occasionally only, when self-righteousness reaches the end of its thread, and we need a guilt-drenched fix.
Sleep slurs our speech. Hanging heavily on our tongues. A hopeful reminder. That instead of slumber, we choose each other, even if just for…
View original post 406 more words