Perspective is everything they say. One will agonize over a broken heart while another will say they'd trade you places just to have a heart. In honestly, I wish I knew what it felt like to love a boy so much that when he left, you felt incomplete. Like a piece of you broke off, like a teacup without a handle. Because in that situation, at least you can say that you found a different part of you that you didn't know existed, and I envy those people. I only know love from the outside, never on the inside. I wish I could know what it felt like to have someone love you as much as you love them. To be loved with everything you can give. So I'm waiting, wishing for someone who may not exist, except maybe in my dreams But maybe I'm lucky. That's what I have to say. Maybe. I. Am. Lucky. Few people can honestly say they are happy, comfortable at least. Complete. I felt that way for a little bit today on my way home, basking in the joy of having my first paycheck, singing along with the radio, going the speed limit on the interstate. There's a point when you realize that your life isn't so bad, that it's actually good, and that everything you've worried about was actually nothing. So I have that. Even if I don't have anyone to share it with.