Just me, patting my own back like a tired parent and bargaining with my brain to please, for the love of all things holy, go the fuck back to sleep. Independence is a beautiful thing, right up until I realise I’m both the baby and the one responsible for putting the baby to bed.
A rather unfortunate side effect of my version of adulting is waking up at some ungodly hour and realising the night shift is entirely my responsibility. No pair of arms to pull me back into the warmth of an embrace, no sleepy little kiss to coax me back into dreamland.
Flowers get sunlight and call it photosynthesis. I get a little sunshine and suddenly realize I’m just a sun-starved creature who’s been kept indoors far too long and desperately needs to be let out to frolic in the wild.
@HAUNTEDON I hope you’re not getting too accustomed to my current sun-starved looks, because a little more time under the sun and I might turn up with an entirely different kind of deprived.