Entitlement

Sometimes I wish they were around, I wish she was around.

I wish I had them all back with me when times are hardest, when all around me seems bleak and somewhat strange. How do others communicate? Through language, through small talk, through experience and through relations of all kinds.

How do we communicate?

Through being who we are. Not everyone can be us, but the few that I once knew were just the way I was, the way it was supposed to be. Yes, there are the sporadic few who are extremely different, far apart from us and our natural behaviour, and yes, we shun the very sight and and literally, sounds of them.

How?

We are what we are, we feel what we feel, we feel each other, we know why it hurts everyone now and then at the most painful parts. Who else but us can comfort each other, support one another? You understand why then, it's hard for me function in the every day life, feeling the loss of close friends who understood your every emotion, who took it to heart and tried their best to make you feel you once again.

No, I can't write. I can't type. I can't express yself. I don't have you no more. That part of me is gone, what you see is a tiny fragment, a memory of what I was, never to be again...