I think I’m PMS-ing. Again.

A movie that doesn't stop playing.

Last time I spent the night there.
Last time I talked to him.
Last time I hugged him.
Last time I kissed him.
Last time I cried in front of him.
Last time I dialed his number.
Last time I messaged him.
Last time he held my hand.
Last time he sent be home.
Last time he said bye to me.
Last time he cried with me.
Last time he looked me in the eye.
Last time we saw each other.
Last time ...
So many 'last time's.

Can’t my mind stop playing?

Impulse buys.
It only fills the void in my heart temporarily.
I should be saving instead.

I’m tired. I should head to bed.

[[ . ]]* |12:16 AM|