I wish i didn't care

At 4am in the morning, when the light does not yet seep through curtained windows and the white figure of flesh glimmers with such ambiguity against the black ground of night, what is it that keeps us awake? I imagine a moment unmatched in surreality - a sense of reality so strong it overwhelms our capacity for sensory perception. When you are caught in the half-struggle of coitus, do you remember the sweat and musky stain or do you forget who you are in embraces where flesh dissolves and individuality loses meaning?

At 4am in the morning, who is it that keeps you up?

As you get more comfortable with someone , you start to pay lesser attention to little details . True?