wasted day


A day off to recover after a day and night out in London. Drinks in the day and a punk rock show in the night. I finally got to bed sometime after 1am but awoke, thirsty, a few times in the night. I had finally fallen into a deep sleep around 6:30am only to be awoken by my phone ringing at 7am. I picked the phone up and saw the name of the one I love flashing on the screen. I felt happy to be awoken by her. I answered with croaking, hoarse voice and she asked whether I was going into the office or working from home. I told her that I was on leave, and then she proceeded to shout at me for some innocent message I had sent... one which had been read by someone it shouldn’t have been read by. One I made as innocent as possible on the off-chance that it be read by someone it shouldn’t have been read by. The call ended abruptly and my sleep too. There was no further sleep, just a stabbing pain in my metaphorical heart. Lonely, lost, longing for the one who called only to receive such a harsh call from this very person... the very one whose presence helped me to feel less alone for so long. To feel disliked or forgotten by the one you love is to feel a tremendous increase in loneliness. A day off wasted in torment, for I don’t take these things lightly.

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