Sometimes I wonder why I drag myself through this life. Especially with the memories I sit with day in and out. It's like I'm waiting for something but nothing ever happens. Still I wait. I've begun to keep to myself more than ever, even writing things for myself to someway communicate myself to the only person I'll let listen. I wear a mask proudly because I don't want to change anything. I want to live in the past and hope that after all of this she will be there as if she'd been waiting the entire time. I've given up in my older age, accepting what I suffered through in my youth as my life. I feel content and yet completely torn at the same time. I'll wait.