Valaki letudná fordítani ezt a szerelmes szoveget?

it comes in waves. there are some nights where it just gently tickles your skin, sending a chill to your heart, a shudder of weakness. but it's just enough to where you can pretend it almost doesn't exist; there's a mist in the air, but it's refreshing. welcoming even. then there are nights where it's a little harder to dismiss; it pushes to your knees, threatening to throw you off balance and you're grappling at anyone, anything to help you stay upright because you'll be damned if you let it wreck whatever strength you've built. but then come the nights where it's impossible to ignore and it crashes over your head, sending you tumbling and turning and fumbling under until you can't see up from down and you have to know soon because you can't breathe you can't breathe you can't breathe and all you're registering is pain and you're just drowning in the heartache and the warpath of memories it's brought along and they push and shove until you're struggling to stay afloat when you've only just managed to break to the surface. you have just one lifesaver and you throw it out in hopes of someone helping, but your mistake is throwing it at the source and he's too busy sleeping to answer your pleas. those nights are the worst. soon, but not soon enough, the calm comes through and you're standing in the wreckage that's been left behind, with tired eyes and a beating heart. not that it really matters; there may be one within your chest, but you know the real one lies within his hands, and until you find some way to steal it back, you're forced to repeat this cycle over and over again. breathe, swim, repeat.