Lonely Journey

I came home last night after the milonga feeling so empty. I had the energy to reply to my email messages and listen to music, but somehow I felt empty. The milonga sucked and I really missed having a partner to dance with. I am at work today and I had a very nice conversation with a gentleman who seems to be a very nice person. The more I get to know people, the more I see how unfair life is. Or maybe, life is fair. Maybe life is so fair that people get certain things and lack others because that is the way it's suppose to be.

Trusting people seems so difficult. Being trusted also seems so difficult. 

I was carried away last night and I wanted to write a poem. The poem never happened. 

Reading your e-mails slowly. Re-reading your e-mails and just not responding. There's a part of me that likes distancing itself from you. You were never really close to me, except perhaps in the physical context. But I needed you to be close to me in a different way. And now you are in Russia. You are home. And you miss me. 

You are lucky you have a place that you can call home. 

I am lucky I still have myself and can rebuild what once was. Before you and before the others. 

I have to build a fort once again. Time is in slow motion again. We walk. 

I walk baby steps into being once again wholesome. 

What a lonely journey that is.