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I've been a bit of a chaos these days.

Few days ago I've been melancholy, judging by the extra hours I spent on the bed, sleeping for another one or two hours compared to my usual wake time, followed by lying down, scrolling through my phone, too lazy to leave the fluffy mattress until it's suddenly almost the time for Honey to come home that I'd rush downstairs to get some food before hiding in my room again.

I'd bathe with different flavours of bath bombs every evening to somewhat lift my mellow mood, light the scented candles, sip on my warm tea, read a good e-book; I did all those things to patch myself up from the heart-break I've been feeling since I forbid myself from seeing him.

It had been four days.

I had been bracing myself for four days not to get out of the bedroom, afraid if I'd approach Honey and repeat the same thing. What happened last weekend shouldn't be carried forward; I've decided to wake up from the dream.

But then it's like I had this surge of energy when