The time is 2:19 a.m. and I sit sullenly at my sad excuse for a desk, typing, backspacing, typing, backspacing. My vocabulary escapes me at this hour. All I want is to fall into purple-hazed dreams and maybe not feel what it feels like to want and want so desperately that it stings. I think back to old friends, acquaintances, lovers, enemies (if there is such a thing anymore) and I try to imagine what they think of me now.
You deserve to wake up to a long, crafted text message that inspires you to give your best for the day. You deserve to have someone who thinks about what you’re doing in the middle of the afternoon. You deserve to go to bed at night knowing that you are valued and appreciated.