Ever have one of those days when you don't know where the time has gone? When you check the time after five minutes and you realise two hours have passed? I'm having one of those days today...
I'm all out of sorts because when Paul was here this morning the time flew in. Literally five minutes passed between us waking up and him taking the train home. And now that he's gone, seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours. It sucks royally.
I'm not depressed or lonely or anything like that. What I'm feeling can only be described as withdrawal symptoms as I know I won't be seeing him again until next week and that is always torture. I guess I just hate going cold turkey...
Love, Hazel
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