Talk to me, someone, please. I lay in my bed; it's 3:14 in the morning, and again, I can't shut my brain. No sleep. What do I do? I've already done the usual, smoked two cigarettes standing at my favorite window, my only window, stood on the window sill and let the cool breeze run through my hair all the while listening to the playlist labeled ‘Melancholie’ on Spotify. There's something about this playlist. It resonates with the inner me, yeah I think that describes it perfectly. Enough about my taste in music. I'm all alone. I have friends, if I could call them that. I've heard that you can talk to your friends about anything but I don't think these are that type of friends, or maybe they are and I'm a total freak. These days I'm inclined to believe the latter. I can't open up to them. There was this girl once I could talk to about anything and she would really listen to me. I felt safe confiding in her. She made me feel special, sane. And I was desperately in love with her. But as you can guess from the tone of this scribbling, it didn't work out. I told her I was ‘madly in love with her’ and asked her if there were any, even if the slightest, reciprocating feelings. She said ‘I’m really sorry but I'm afraid not. I don't know what I did to make you feel that way and if I could take it back I would’. I've never begged anyone in my entire life, save for her. ‘Please’ was my desperate attempt at happiness. It's been 4 years since then and I still remember everything we've ever talked about, word to word. I sometimes play the conversations we've had in my head like an old record player and it brings a smile on my face, followed by days of misery. Yes, I would like to forget about her but after all these years I'm starting to believe it might not be possible. I have not been able to talk to anyone like I used to with her. And here I lay in my bed at 4:11 in the morning hoping I can find someone again. Talk to me, someone, please.