xuanmiin: 2AM's Like Crazy, from Saint O' Clock. Their other title track besides You Wouldn't Answer My Calls. And the better title track in my honest opinion. Really like Like Crazy a great deal more ^^ The chorus is so gorgeous. Written in first person, from Jokwon's point of view. 

The second part of three shots. Yes, it does link to Tiredness. 

---

My heart is still hurting

I can’t hold in my tears

“Noona, I’m free tonight. Want to go out for dinner?”

“Sorry, I have a schedule. Recording tonight.”

I stare wordlessly at her text message. You’re lounging around at home now. You don’t have no recording tonight. Jea noona wouldn’t lie to be on this. I wind up crying myself to sleep—I don’t have appetite for dinner anyway.

Even though I said I had already forgotten

“I’m a fan of Ga In. I like listening to her songs. Yes, I’ve watched Bloom. Why would I be jealous? It’s been two years already.”

Even if I try to lie to myself

I’m not jealous. I don’t wish that I was that guy. I’m not jealous. I don’t wish that I was that guy. I’m not…

Because I still can’t forget you

Can’t forget you sneaking an affectionate glance at me. Can’t forget your late night phone calls and cute text messages. Can’t forget that warm smile of yours that reaches your eyes.

Like crazy, my tears are falling

At this rate I’ll go crazy

You’re in the practice room, I assume, visiting Seulong who has broken his foot. Silently, I eavesdrop from outside the open door.

“Sorry, you know. You know what I mean.”

“I know, you have to promote. Of course, I understand.”

“Don’t kill yourself, okay? They’ll understand.”

“Why don’t you visit Kwon-ah before you leave? He’s just nearby.”

“You of all people should know why I don’t want to see him.” Her voice is dangerously soft.

“Listen to me, Ga In-ah, he’s been dying to meet you.” Seulong pushes anyway, and I thank him mentally.

“We need time and space. To get over each other.” She clinically says, thoroughly unconvinced.

“Why are you so stubborn? What don’t you see, Ga In-ah?” His exasperation at the whole situation is even showing on his face.

Insistently, I brush the tears from my eyes. I should barge in and set things straight with her, once and for all.

I miss living proudly

What should I do? My tears keep falling

But I can’t listen to this anymore. So I run. Away from harsh reality, away from her, to a sanctuary. I wish we could go back to a time when I could talk to her about anything; back to a time when she would always visit me; back to a time when she would speak about me with tenderness in her voice. Finally at the deserted stairwell, where no one will discover me, where no one will see my pain, I sob freely. I don’t know what else to do.

What did I do wrong?

Was I too clingy? Was I going too fast? Too slow? Was I not someone you could depend on?

Why did we separate?

Were we really not compatible? Were we affected by public pressure? Were we simply too young?

I don’t know