Sara: I know you.

You present yourself with a picture of your smiling face. But you aren't happy. You're not even close. The only reason you put it up is because no one likes to talk to a depressed soul. The ill natured-feeling soul. You know the feeling I'm talking about. The gutless pit of stomach hurting emptiness that never goes away. The hurt that keeps you from having a normal, sustainable conversation. I feel sorry for you. Because I know how it feels. But I also know that it's a self made pain. Because I don't give myself what I want. Why don't you give yourself what You want? Can you not have it, like I can't have you?