At night, I don’t think about what’s going through your head, miles away, in your own home. I don’t think about if you’re even awake, or what you’ll do tomorrow, or when I’ll see you next. Because thoughts like that will drive me mad, because thoughts like that make each second of the night twist into something ugly; to be alone with your thoughts is the worst loneliness of all.

Instead, I think about how my toes poke out from under my blankets; how, no, I haven’t grown- sometimes things just never fit right. Or I like to think about the sheep in my head, or how I lost track of them, or how, maybe, just maybe, I was never really trying to keep track, anyway.

I think about how I would do anything to impress you, to stay on your mind for an extra minute longer, even if it meant that I had to change. But no, I can’t, because you should never change yourself for someone else, because love is love and fuck you if you don’t know it; that’s how it is.

A minute goes by, and I think about how I love you enough to not mind change, just to feel your warmth another night, just to feel the comfort in another friendly body against mine and, for once, think that maybe things will be okay. But I know that, in the morning, the blankets will still hang loose in my arms- lonely, bitter proof that, tonight, nothing has changed.

I go back to sleep.
I love this. I love you. I love your band.

That is all. I honestly had nothing constructive to add, this is just solid writing. Very personal, very honest, great job.