So much trauma I could scream, I could cry.

But I don’t because it is emotion. Emotion is weakness. So I will hide it all inside. And never tell a soul.

Why?

Because, honestly, who would listen?

Who would care to know someone else’s troubles and take the time to help that person work through them?

Could I tell someone?

Sure, but I don’t trust anyone enough to empty all my pains and sufferings and expect someone to take some of the weight off my shoulder.

There is no relief.

So I sit alone and watch the days of my life pass by, instead of living in each moment, cherishing what is always a one time experience.

As I sit, I think. Think of the days before the drama, think of the drama, think of the feeling, think of the emptiness that occupies so much of my heart.

Think of the ones I’ve trusted and was betrayed by, no matter their promises.

And it my lack of trust deepens each time someone says "you can always talk to me," or "I’m always here for you."

If you can really trust someone, they wouldn’t have to say it out loud to reassure you. It would be apparent.

Something I long so much for but have yet to find.

Like a dog at a pound, each time the door opens the dog hopes it to be his owner, his dearest friend.

Nine out of ten times though, it is someone who only raises the hope of the dog.

Eventually the dog gives up on hope.

He lies in the corner and waits for that long walk of no return.