It's true.

Nobody loves me, it's true.
Not like you do.
                      -------- From Sour Times by Portishead

It is the last night of the year.

From my chair near the open window, I can see and hear the waves on the other end of the narrow rain-drenched beach. The moonlight is strong tonight so that the drops of rain are like jewels in the night sky. I have been nursing my whiskey, little sips to keep me warm in the cool sea-laden breeze coming in from the window. The half-empty bottle of Talisker sits next to the flowers in a vase on the low table to my right. The billowing sheer white curtains dance with my chair, alternately caressing and then shying away. 

I lean back, close my eyes and think of all the dreams where you have let me love you.

When I wake from my reverie, the wind has quietened a bit. But the rain, it never ceases.

It will be midnight soon. Why are you so far from me?