It's 4:55 in the morning, and I'm wide awake. Sleep has been difficult to come by and catch these past few days.

Do you remember the night I went to your condo for the first time? Up until now, everything seems so vivid--I can still see your dusty frame with your grandparents' photo in it; a half-eaten bag of chips on your table. I can still hear the roaring of your air conditioning unit from where I was sitting on your bed while we were talking. I can still remember how you told me that you felt unappreciated, and how I was baffled that someone like you would feel something like that.

As it turns out, right now, I do feel that. I feel like at any given moment, when you choose to, your life could go on without me. Forgotten. Unappreciated. Nights like this, I can't help but feel like you'd only want me to be there when it's convenient for you. I mean, who am I even to think you'd care about my day, if I've eaten, if I'm okay. Because the truth is, right now, I don't feel okay.

Weeks ago, you also told me that you want to aim for lightness--for you, maybe, lightness is within reach. But can you not see that nothing about this is light for me? I'm trying so hard to feel like I mean something to you, that I'm someone special, that I am more than just a thread you tug on when you want to, when you need to. I'm trying so hard to not think about how hung up you were with your past that you couldn't choose me, just me. And now, at close to 5 in the morning, an epiphany: Why am I even trying so hard?

All I ever wanted was to feel at peace. Reassured. To not feel like I have to fight for a place in your life. To not doubt where you and I stand. To feel like the only sensible future is us. And maybe you are failing at that. Maybe I am failing as well.

I did hold your hand that night in Marina Bay Spa, and no, it wasn't because I got carried away in the moment. Maybe it was too bold, but the truth is, it felt like the easiest, most natural thing to do. I also remember you letting go for fear of being seen.

Someday, maybe, it's going to stop feeling like this. Someday, I am still hopeful, that being at peace would be as easy as holding your hand.

I need to sleep.