I thought of her and I went to sleep with my eyes moist last night.

I don’t remember what time it was, but I know I was tired, PMS-sy, and extremely, extremely drained.

Then, it was deja vu all over again.

I have too much pride to break down and cry.

But the crack between wanting to, and not allowing myself to, was one that was closing in too much, that it had forced a few sniffles to fall through.

And I nearly wanted to burst out laughing in exasperation at my predicament.

I fell asleep. I did.

I woke up seeing this message, which had came in after I fell asleep, that brought too much of a heartache.

“If you’re still up, please call, she is screaming for you.”

She rarely screams for me.

Sorry sweetheart, Mummy is not there when you wanted, not needed, me most.