4 o’clock in the morning…. a strange poetic time of pining and romance. 4am, when the only people awake are poets, heart-sore lovers, and serial killers, and they all have one thing on their mind; the attention of another person.

Currently, the man that I love falls under two out of three of those categories. He is in Washington DC is 4,000 miles away from myself in Scotland and is missing me with the force of a storm. Wanting romance and poems and possibly nudes, with that unfettered grasp of desire that you can only achieve when half awake but still dreaming in the unreal landscape of 4am…

Myself, being 5 hours ahead of him, at 9am, I am just starting to wake up and toddle around in search of fruit loops and hopefully some coffee. Messy hair and rumpled pajamas receiving one text message after another full of dark romanic drama that you can only get from a love struck goth. Back to me washing off last nights makeup and needing to pee… No! This is not the time for slightly scandalous photos!

Time differences are hard on relationships.


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