STARTED THE DAY OKAY NOW MY HEART HURTS AGAIN. I HATE THE HOLIDAYS.

 How can I wait until you come to me?

The once fleet mornings linger by the way;
Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee
At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play
Like truant children, while I sigh and say,
How can I wait?
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox