Saturday, October 9, 2010

I don't even know

I am unloved. It's true and apparent. I try not to think about it, but I'm reasonably intelligent and aware, so I can't pretend the situation is anything but what it is.

Still, I have no idea what it would feel like to know anyone cared about me, so I probably wouldn't recognize it if it existed. And by "cared about," I mean, people paid attention, checked in, hung out, talked, asked after my welfare--that sort of thing...and doing so out of genuine affection and not just because I'm needed or serve some practical purpose in another person's life.

Maybe in my next life.

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