Lying down in my bed with a blanket draped over me, I keep tossing and turning unable to drift off to sleep. At 3 A.M, all my mind keeps thinking about is you.
I keep thinking about the time you used to lay right next to me with your messy hair strewn over your beautiful face, how melodious even your light-snores sounded and how your warm skin used to drive away the cold wind which is now creeping in inside my blanket.
I miss sitting beside you by the seaside and watching the sun rise through your eyes. Those times when I ran my fingers through your hair as you leaned your head against my shoulders while watching a movie.
Lying alone makes me realize how much I crave your touch. I wish to hear you whisper softly in my ears once again. I miss every last detail of you. From your cruel smiling eyes, your inviting lips to even the ends of your fingernails. I yearn for you to touch me again with your pretty little hands. I wish I could wake up the next morning with my hands tightly around your waist.
But now the paradox is that all I am to you is a distant memory and the only way I’ll ever get to see you again is in my dreams through the sleep which eludes me because of your thought.