You know I love you. You know I have always loved you. I don't understand this thing you do where you play coy, and hard to get, because it's not like you have to entice me -- you know I want you. I think you look way hot, no matter what you were. I mean -- hell. I think you're a sexy bitch even when you're wearing goldlame capri pants and magenta and brown striped tank top. I eat your burnt cooking, and I love it. I ask for more, even.

This is what I say:

"Hey, Sleep. Can I have some more of that burnt rice? It's damned tasty."

But that's beside the point. Our relationship is about more than playing these silly games; or it should be. My love for you is transcendent, redemptive, glorious. My love for you is love the likes of which has the power to move planets into alignment, and change the course of history.

I'll wait for you, if you want. But I can only wait 72 hours before being declared legally insane.

Oh, Sleep. Return to my loving arms, before they're shaking with exhaustion or trying to slap imaginary bugs off the walls. Come back to me, that is my request. Come back to cold m--Sorry. I got carried away there.

The point is this: I'll be here, hoping against hope that you'll see the light, that you'll recognize that what we have together is very, very special.

Hoplessly Devoted To You,

Nifra

PS OMIFUCKING GOD I AM SO TIRED WHY CAN'T I SLEEP!?!?