A Confession
1:20 a.m.

Dear Readers,

See, the thing is this. I had to spew this out to someone, and you guys are the next best thing to standing on a rooftop and shouting at strangers.

I went home with someone on New Year's Eve, and he was sweet and lovely, and afterwards, he held me close and we slept spooned. We slept spooned. And it was tender and sweet. And now, it's four nights later, and I can't sleep, and all I wish for is someone like him to hold me close again.

I don't know if he likes me. God, at this point, it doesn't even really matter, because going home with someone is not the way to start a relationship. But, it was wonderful to be held close like that, it really was.

Ugh. I hate the morning after. I hate that it makes you think and feel and hurt.

Really, it was so nice to be held like that.

Yours,

Lonely Writer.

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