Thursdays are for soul searching,
Dinners with friends,
Runny nose and clouded eyes,
Thursdays are for sleeping alone.
I don´t want us to move so fast,
I always rush into things,
I don´t even know the meaning of slow,
But I´d like this time to last.
Like in a modern fairytale
I kind of miss you,
But I´m too busy running around
To admit it to myself.
Good night, pretty baby
Search for me with your fingertips
You´ll find my smell in your sheets.
I´ve cooled down a bit, or so it seems. I´m able to be by myself without feeling like throwing myself out of the window in desperation, I´m making the fire, washing my clothes and preparing some sort of dinner, too. Who knew it´d be that hard to do what I´ve been doing for ages, just because I´m on my own now?
I´ve been so sociable lately that I´m right out exhausted. I just want to listen to music by my furry boys, write until I have no more words coming out and then go to sleep. I´ve started being able to fall asleep by myself again, without sleeping pills, that is. I still wake up in the middle of the night, though, and only sleep for 5-6 hours, but it´s a step forward.