you must have thought me down for the count.
every day, for what was way too
long, i would take the time to wonder,
lost in my
own lousy situation,
where you might be, why i never heard a word. what a
jerk, each and
all of you, i thought. these things we go through are
confoundingly difficult. even while in the midst of the worst, i
knew this, but yet i’d be so aware of the absence,
every single day it would hit me numerous times, and down
the rabbit hole i’d go. what a waste, right? this is what comes of believing. of being.
