Oh, mother. I can feel the soil falling over my head.

Tunes in my head: I Know It's Over by The Smiths
Atmosphere: Depressed

Sitting here. In front of the heater. Alone.

Not a person speaks to me in the mornings. I can go two and a half, three hours without saying a word to anybody.

Is this a problem?

Yes.

It's amazing how the human psyche works, though.

How we can so calmly say one thing and do another.

if you're so funny, why are you on your own tonight?

I still miss intimacy. So much.

And yet it's impossible to recapture.

What will stop me from trying?

it's so easy to laugh
it's so easy to hate
it takes guts to be
gentle and kind
love is natural and real
but not for you my love
not tonight my love

I miss the little things people would do. Some still do them. Some don't.

Even just a goofy smile in the corridor can do anything to make my day.

But some people don't do that. The little things we do are gone. Forever.

Isn't that sad, my love? Isn't it sad that the strands of friendship are becoming frayed?

Go ahead, untangle them. If you want to make the effort. You seem resistant to the idea so far.

Yes, I'm bipolar. Part of me wants to leave you in the dust.

Part of me wants to be yours.

But whatever.