I used to be love drunk, but now Im hungover.

January the 25th. The 393rd day. 3am in the morning, I was trying but still failing to visit slumberland. And during such sleepless nights, do you realise a lot more than you already know.

Every passing day was actually painful. One day closer to the starting of "physical torment", one day closer to the discovery of the yield of the sown seeds, and even more importantly, one less chance to the one thing that could make me suffer less. I dread having to follow orders all day long; I fear my crops being ruined by weed; and I fear having to wait. Waiting is painful, I was reminded again.

I close my eyes, and the image assembled in my head. The face of fair and smooth skin, those eyes that concave downwards, those pink, thin lips that seemed to greet me everytime I see them, and those slightly wavy, long hair that had a scent hard to forget. And that gentle smile that tells you that the beautiful girl is safely asleep, wandering the wonders of land only limited by imagination. Often, I've been caught roaming around in her streets.

Those were the only times I was right next to her. Physically.

I ponder about this; were all the investments I have put in going to promise me anything? They came with gigantic price-tags. Yet, it feels like it was the only reason I am pushing on.

All that happened seven months ago, I remember so vividly, that I could recite in greatest details of each event. It was a whole new experience. Something that was wonderful. Something worth remembering, even if it were gone. It was then when we first met; the adrenaline you get is one-of-a-kind.

But I also remembered how I first heard you cry after I set for home. Something that hits your heart and say, you will hold on to this special relationship. Regardlessly. "Nothing will stop the pair if you both choose to make it work," I recall from comparing our horoscope.

With that I hugged my pillow tight, wishing it was you.

- 3:56 AM