some degree of pain, but i'm told that it's fleeting

.







it's four fifteen in the morning and i'm awake, curled up in bed with a good book, reading by the light of three candles that i found in a cupboard accidentally while i was looking for towels in the morning, after a cold shower.
i'm wondering what he's doing at that moment, whether or not his skin is cold, like mine, and if his hands are slightly clammy like they usually are. i wonder what he's thinking and i realize that i shouldn't be thinking of him. it's not right of me. it's not good for me.
i read until page three hundred and two and realize that it's nearly six. i look out the window for the moon and a warm breeze hits my nose. the moon is cut in half, and for some reason that makes me sad.
i blow out the candles, all three at once, put the book on the floor next to my bed with a small thump.
i keep my eyes open for a few minutes, waiting for them to adjust to the dark. it's cold, but i never close the window-- the lack of heat reminds me of his touch.
the neighbor's sprinklers have turned on, and i'm lured to sleep by the sound of water hitting the grass in cold sheets.

















*edit*

OH MY GOD:





lily !!!
*completely girlish, non-gina squeal*









.