Wake up. Look at the watch. 4 am again. It’s been over a week now, same thing every fucking night. Is it a reaction to the Unknown unravelling before me? Or is it a reaction to the absence of Her? Because I fucking miss Her. Her smell, her warmth in the dark. Her arms around me and her breasts tight against my back. Her sleep-talking. And just Her.
Roll over. Deep breaths. Go to take a piss and come back to bed. Alone in the dark. She said She believed our flat was haunted by ghosts. I hope She’s right. Feel less lonely now.