Either way, the air is empty and quiet now. I would talk, but to whom?

And what would I say?

I guess I thought this feeling was over, is all. This adolescent, angsty, lonely, abandoned feeling. But the only difference appears to be that I'm now feeling it at 11 pm, and not 3 in the morning. Maybe this isn't something you just grow out of. Maybe this is something like acne, where you always thought it was part of a phase until you're 26 years old with zits on your chin.

And it's not even fair. To you, I mean. I have no right to blame, to feel forgotten, to feel put out in any way. I am absolutely loved and cared for and extraordinarily fortunate. I have a doggie to pet and a kitty to hug and a fish to mess with. I have neighbors outside and family and friends in my phone. I have a nice house with a nice porch and a nice comfy swing. I have my faith and my God, and my love. I have you, for goodness' sake, if not at the moment, then at most other times. I should be on some show for being a ridiculously lucky freak of nature.

So why is it I feel like I need to cry?

fore :: aft