10pm relapse lmaoaoa

It’s not even midnight. It’s barely late at all. But somehow, tonight feels emptier than usual.

I catch myself wishing I still had someone to stay up with. Someone to send me those “go to sleep” texts I used to pretend to ignore but secretly loved obeying. It sounds silly—needing permission to rest, needing that little push—but it felt nice. It felt like being cared for.

Now, it’s just me. Me staring at my phone like it owes me something, scrolling through conversations that have already ended. I broke up with someone recently—hilarious, right? Saying it like it’s casual, when in reality it still stings. And the weirdest part isn’t the big, dramatic waves of sadness. It’s these quiet hours, when the absence sneaks in and makes itself at home.

I miss having someone to say “goodnight” to. I miss that soft routine, that comfort of knowing I wasn’t closing the day alone. And yeah, maybe I’ll get used to it. Maybe I’ll even grow to love these quiet nights with just me and my thoughts. But right now, I’d give anything for one more “sleep well” text.

It’s only 10PM, but it already feels too late.