Talking to you

I want to talk to you at three in the morning, when I’m laying in bed, with waves of emotion rushing over me. I want to talk to you when I wake up from a bad dream – drowning in my thoughts, suffocated by my imagination.

When I can barely talk, overrun by emotion – I want you to be there, welcoming my grievances. Listening to my rants, my aches and pains, and my worries.

When all I see is blackness, and all I feel is pressure, I want to talk to you. My support – a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to – you are who I turn to.

I have a lot of thoughts. Good and bad, light and heavy, they consume me. And when I wake up in the middle of the night and every inch of me is devoured by these emotions, it is you who I want beside me.

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