It's almost 6am and I wonder if you're awake,

If the lights are coming on in that house across town.

I remind myself that there are worse things than being alone, and I choke back the tears that are threatening.

Do you think of me?

When you're looking across the room at her does my face flash in your mind or am I temporarily forgotten?

I'm not sure I'm important enough to be remembered.

I was supposed to flourish but I grew weak.

For days I cried, countless nights I spent staring at the ceiling questions burning in my mind.

Where are you when you're not with me? You are never here and I am always, always alone. In a room full of people.

There are worse things than being alone.

Again, remind myself.

One, two, ten, three hundred and sixty five. And another year to begin again.

"Will it be years?"

"Do we really have a future?"

Of course not.

Of course.

I feel a temporary false sense of security.

But it's been years.

And this is the future.

And it's almost 6am.

The lights are coming on in the blue house across town, as they do every morning.

And you are not alone.

There are worse things than being alone.