And Our Heart Breaks

I met with on old friend tonight. I met with her really for the same reason that I've met with a couple of friends recently, which is to say that I needed someone to lean on. I'll spare you the dramatics and cut to the quick, I'm really depressed I have been intermittently looking for someone or something. I'm really uncomfortable with emotionally vulnerability, so it's been kinda awkward. Yea. What does Jen say? Blah blah blah? Is that it? Whatever that awkward turtle is, insert it forcefully here.

I get drunk and cry by myself. I listen to music or write words that no one ever sees and weep. I don't know how to console Scott or Katy. I don't know the words or the motions. I look at the people I love who are grieving and I've got nothing. My heart goes out, it aches, with the hope that our embrace will be comforting. But it never is. So I sit and observe their pain and they sit and observe mine and in our quiet moments we listen to songs and cry. And, frankly, it sucks.

I wish I could be more articulate than that.

The only thing that I can say is that I can't remember a time when I felt more alone.