"No matter what you do or say, I'm gonna love you anyway."

I awoke. Unfulfilled and ghastly. Slavery towards my own obsession. It is better to be obsessed with something else other than myself. Do I feel love or just posession? I awoke, again, to a dark and lonely room. I am unclean, unshaven, the appearance of delay. The time it took for my legs to fall out of bed I cannot tell. I reached for my dressing gown and wrapped it around my warm body and I stood up. I became dizzy with disappointment, dizzy with longing, dizzy with solitude. I trudged down the stairs and I stared at the clock. Seconds passed, minutes, a whole forty five of them, and I found my head forcing it's way into my hands. What I wouldn't give to be in those arms. It is not so much a matter of missing a person, it is a matter of being physically unable to do something which doesn't involve that person. Now I am all swept up in a haze of overwhelming nostalgia. Again, I paced upstairs and sat on my bed and cried once more. Whatever I was about to do, it did not involve going to college, and of that I was sure. I threw on his jumper and the closest clothes in my wardrobe and I grabbed the seven thirty bus. Four hours, eh? Four hours and I've manifested a mood such as this. I must sleep longer and think lesser. The bus approached the stop and upon witnessing a gathering of people I slipped out the side route into a place I was unsure of. My geography skill picked up and I found my way again.

McDonalds, in all it's capitalist glory, found itself with a returning customer that morning. I ate as slowly and surely as possible and didn't budge until most of my drink was gone and I was a little less nervous. I left and instead of making my way to college I blew fifty quid in the shopping centre on a pair of suspender jeans and a leopard print scarf amongst other little glories. This concluded my day thus far as I lay fatigued and dirty in my bedroom. I scope negativity. I deserve what I get.