And it's just a story from a long time back, one more story to hide behind one more smile.

3 AM and it's 1 PM again; someone else in the chalet offers us lunch; we look at each other and apologise, Our hands are full. Too full, too full of each other and of wide-eyed hope.

3 AM and it's 3 PM again; he steps out of the bathroom, throws his wet towel carelessly onto the mattress. We look at each other for a quiet moment. It's 3 PM again and he pulls me closer, we're at the top of the spiral staircase, top of the world, holding each other in a hug perfumed with an intoxicating blend of soap and love and him and me. 3 PM and we're at the top of the spiral staircase and someone downstairs yells, Have you seen And someone else answers no; I look at him and we both know why; he's missing in action downstairs because we're trapped in an embrace upstairs, here, in this moment, at 3 PM.

3 AM and it's 9 PM again, we're leaning against the foot of the bed, seated on a mattress, we're too close but we're just talking and laughing and holding hands. 9 PM and I'm pretending not to show how nervous I am, alone with him at the foot of a bed in a quiet room, his deep voice bouncing off the walls and wrapping around my heart, my heart in the palm of his hand. 9 PM and my heart is in the palm of his hand. 9 PM and the closed door opens, Someone enters and asks if we want to play cards; I say okay but will you be a darling, go to the other room and check if there are other cards left on the floor, please

3 AM and the moment Someone's footsteps fade it's 9 PM and we're at the foot of the bed again; I steal a hug from him, because it's 9 PM and we're alone in the room and we think we are forever. Someone returns, finding nothing in the other room, and we play cards, and I smile thinking we are forever.

But it's 3 AM and forever is in the past tense; it's 3 AM and forever is a nightmare that won't go away. 3 AM and I'm at his feet begging him not to go, 3 AM and I want a break-up. Please don't leave me. We don't have a future together. I need you. I'm sorry. 3 AM and I'm alone on my bed tangled in sheets and regret and sadistic freedom, and this is real, this is the real 3 AM when it's still dark and I reach out for comfort and I find nothing but Doritos, 3 AM and it's real, it's not stopping, 3 AM and I force Doritos down my throat because you can't choke on tears when you're busy choking on Doritos.

3 AM and I remember it's over. It's just the 3 AM happening, it's just the remembering, the remembering that goes away when you concentrate on Not Choking On Doritos. 3 AM and he's gone, there's no more us, I don't have to fall again, I don't have to go through this again. Except I have to, because it's past 3 AM and I remember, and it's the remembering that only goes away when you concentrate on Not Choking On Doritos, the remembering that goes on forever after 3 AM, when you've no more Doritos left.

3 AM and you hope 3 AM is in the past tense, 3 AM and you hope that soon it'll be just another story from a long time back, just another story to hide behind another smile.