Isn't time a strange thing.�Constant yet seemingly not so.�When you are waiting for the day to end and sleep to come, Christmas Eve as a child is the longest day of the year.�You sit by the phone, not hearing from the one you love, and you can feel every single second, achingly slowly, ticking every scary thought, until the phone finally rings and realising the tricks your mind played on you... she does love you, was thinking of you, stayed safe the whole time...then the phone call seems short and the hour you spent talking felt like a few minutes.

Time is weird like that.