Overcast, These Gloomy Nights Wear On.

You close your eyes and the image replays for the 39th time since 1am. The image of your hand intertwined in his. Outside is the unfamiliar backyard which they call home but means nothing to you. You toss and turn in a strange hotel room while I try not to think about you, but hey, it never would have worked out anyway. You sharply inhale the scent of Pink Chiffon, reminiscent of freshman year when you were ignorant to the lurking depths of the world. Who knew that nostalgia could be an addiction? It literally takes over your life. Living in the moment is alien, harsh, yet invigorating all at the same time.