As I’m typing right now, it’s marked the 36th hour you started isolating yourself on some island and obviously I’m not invited. Over the past 6 months, we’ve never been apart for even 12 hours even on hard days. So the mess I’m feeling inside right now is off the chart, squeezing my endurance, and driving me damn self to insanity.
I don’t want to sound like a weak-sauce gentlemen because I’m not. But what else am I supposed to do when you’re not around? It’s been too much, baby. If you love me, come back already. I need you. I really do.

