This achy feeling. You’re there but you’re not really there and I want you so badly. I need you. Things just feel all wrong when you’re not included in the equation. I shouldn’t want this but I do. And I’d give anything, I’d do anything – I’d bend over backwards and travel to the moon and back if I thought it would change things, if I thought it would change your mind.
Clegg’s tonight then? What colour should I paint my nails? Will you be there? Please don’t be. Will €5 get me suitably shitfaced? I hope so. I need an excuse.
Someone please surprise me.