I am completely lost. Things so precious I have no idea when thy got lost but they did. Now I sit and ponder if I am the one who’s wrong. Simply because I care and I hurt, but admitting I miss you and I would do whatever to keep these precious thing…… makes me as bad as one, someone, who I am ever so deeply passionately worried and caring for. But I have things to preoccupy my attention. Things that give me temporary leave from what I feel. What my emotions say…..what my mind thinks, two totally separate processes. It screws with me. Not like I’m any at all important. I’m not. People say I am and in all honesty, I am simply another blurred face in the passing of many lifetimes. And that’s okay, it makes it all more clear that my emotions my hurt are of a pointless effort. As is much of life.