ANOTHER LATE NIGHT

This is one of those nights.

There is a warm wind wrapping itself around my shoulders.

I am listening to old REM and Doobie Brothers songs while reading incredibly sappy Sherlock fan fiction.

And part of my heart is just pleading to have some one here who could understand even just a tiny particle of what I am feeling.

Sometimes I'm fine with the same old stories and same old lines. And most of the time I can accept this cage I'm in.

Until the breeze changes - the chest becomes tight again - the thoughts of what could/should be surface again.

Part of it is my daughter will be here tomorrow, and she is the closest friend I have - and that will help. Some. And I'll cry some of this out before I go to bed - I'll dream some more of it out in my sleep. I talk to my shrink tomorrow morning, and that will help to.

I just know it's never really going to go away.

And it's never to be fulfilled. Not in this life anyway.

And that's the part that makes me cry. I'm impatient - I want it now.