I open my eyes to find my bedroom covered in newspaper clippings. Two balls of yarn have been slaughtered during the course of the night, their entrails decorate the walls now. Where did you get all these newspapers? You’re naked, still naked (and so gorgeous). I make a joke, you don’t react. I put a hand to your head and ask: did you get any sleep? Is this about what I said last night? First you shake your head, then you nod it. I don’t think I’ve seen your eyes this big before. “You really love me,” you say, helplessly.