So awkward I feel, agitated, trapped, but I feel that way even when alone. I checked my watch while everybody clapped. Why aren't you here? I hate it on my own. What's all this ruckus? I can't comprehend what's funny, tragic, planned coincidence. It just goes on and on. When will it end? Repeating louder doesn't make more sense. But human nature tweaks the line of life. In every trial, marriage, death, and birth we seek a graceful arc to give us worth, as if were living tales of joy or strife. They're lies. All lies. It’s years since you've been gone. I don't know how I keep on keeping on.

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