Being Without You

Being alone. When you're used to having that special someone with you, being alone is murder. You have to learn to be totally dependent again. You still talk to them when passing by the living room as if you expect the ashes to answer. You still wish they could make you laugh when you're having a bad day. You still tell them about your day and how much you love them as if they are still here, but then tell them how much you miss them and cry because they will never answer you again.

People say: You'll find someone else. I don't want anyone else. I had the perfect relationship. I don't want to go through the hassles of getting to know someone else. I just don't. No one will ever be Sam. Why try the rest when I had the best?

Get a pet. I need to fence the yard for a dog, plus, my job takes too much out of me to give the attention needed to a dog. A cat would just tear shit up and destroy the couch crew... then I would have to bury it in the back yard. A fish tank might leak. A hamster habitrail is cool with all the tubes, but what if they get out and it has to be kept cleaned. Guinea pigs are cool too, very low maintenance, but still need attention, and the tank has to be kept clean as well.

Naw, no pets.

For now, I'll just stay alone and struggle with getting up every day to function. It's so hard when I used to live to make someone happy who is no longer here. It gave me the incentive to get up and keep bettering myself for him. He kept me grounded, now... I am so ready to just fly the coop.

I look around at the fucked up world and just pray to God to please just take me. He won't because of all the people I help in the course of a week. I find the problems and fix them that no one else did.

I am just so tired.