Sometimes I feel like my heart will vanish if no one notices it’s there. Unseen, resembling good deeds completed. I know I can be bitter, yet I don’t feel totally taken by what has happened to me. Still, I attempt to be there, even when I conclude I’m alone. Now in moments, days, or maybe what feels like years to me. They notice nothing. If not, it is my inability to see what is before me. Am I blind to their care? Lost, irrational, my emotions of replacement. When asked what I expect I always say be there. Is it different to me than to them? Am I to be left questioning my life away, if I’m good enough, and why I’m not, chosen. If thoughts are all I could give you, would it be, enough? For I give them too many every day. Still, it’s not sufficient. If it were in my hindsight, I would be filled with many in my life, not only far away but present.
Angela K. Crandall