Longing

My sugardaddy, as I playfully call him, has been in town. We took each other's hand and stepped out into a darkening Gothenburg, with the Christmas lights twinkling and swaying above us. I have drunk amber beer and eaten some really nice czech food. We have had a good time. Now he has gone again, and here I am at home, with a slight hangover and a longing heart. I wonder if it would be a little more fun if I pretended to be a scorned lover, but it won't be. More fun I mean. 
This eternal wound to long for someone. And at the same time this knowledge; which both comforts and tears, that I am blessed with a very great love. So, so, so blessed.