I cry

I admit it.  I cry.  Or should I say I still cry.  Some days its very difficult to believe that my hopes and dreams are dead again.  That I'll never feel his touch on my skin.  Or hear him whisper my name in the dark.  I have been paying attention to the times when I feel the lowest, and realized that there are two "worst" times for me:  on the drive home from work, and when I crawl into bed.

While I am at work, there are things to keep me focused, busy, no time for dwelling.  But get me into my car for the commute home, and the tears roll.  Maybe because I know that I'm going home to no one; that when I get home, there won't be long conversations with my best friend.  I used to imagine that some day I'd be heading home, and he'd be there.  I'll even be honest and admit that there were two different times when I turned the corner to my street and in front of my house would be parked a big Dodge truck.  Oh how my heart would pound, my breath quicken .... only to realize the truck was black, and belonged to a friend across the street.  *sigh*

It's the same when I crawl into bed, knowing that its just me, I'm alone -- still.  And being afraid that I will be alone for the rest of my days.   People say you're not alone when you have friends; and for the most part, I agree. but there's something to having your own 'someone' who shares all the little details - it would never be quite the same with a friend.  And yes, I still want that.  With the right someone who will be my best friend, who will love me -- and all my faults.


Maybe I cry for what might have been; what could have been terrific.
And maybe I cry because I know that I'm only prolonging the heartache
that will happen when I reach bottom and I have to finally let go.

some days its just plain old feeling sorry for myself and the mess I allowed me to get into.

This too shall pass.