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| I don't really know what the light was doing today. |
For 3 am.
Stop staring at your hands whilst sleep evades you, the fact that he won't hold them playing on repeat in your mind.
Instead, use them to flick your hair over your shoulder. Link them together, and admire the thinness of your fingers; bury them in your sheets, and feel every fibre of the fabric. You'll run them over the barely-there hair of a baby, you'll twine them in a dog's fur, you'll glide them over your cat's sleek coat. Your hands were not made for holding, they were made for caring. They were made for giving love. And I know you can do this. I wouldn't have all of this faith in you otherwise.
I'm not going to tell you to stop feeling sad; I know that, at this stage, stopping breathing would be easier.
Instead, focus on the fact that in a few hours the sun is going to climb steadily until it seeps into your room and kisses your skin. Focus on the feeling of washing conditioner out of your hair. Focus on the feeling of being surrounded by friends and laughing until it hurts. Focus on the smell of clean sheets, the feel of a new notepad, the creases in the spine of your favourite book. Focus on the fact that there is a reason that love songs were written. Focus on loving yourself - it will make you invincible.
Remember, you are already complete. You are a whole person. If I were to delve into your chest in this instant, I would find an entire heart. Breath slowly, count to three, let it out. Now, do it again. And again. You're alive, you're going to make it through tonight and every night that follows.
(Now go and listen to You're So Vain and Rumour Has It and Cry Me A River.)
