To pretend that I am not alone is a lie. 

It is me and my dog. 

My husband, whom I love dearly is involved in his own world.

I am solitary. It’s a life that I’ve created and thus has been created for me. 

Someday it will just be me and there will be no difference. 

It would be another lie to say that I’ve always been alone. Desperate for the one person who loves me enough, feels passionate enough about me – to pull me out from this non-existence. 

It’s doubtful. 

All of the Kings horses and all of the Kings men couldn’t put this girl together again. 

I walk my dog late into the night unaware of the hour.  

Or the realities of whether a girl should be doing such a thing.

It’s not as though my husband stops me out of concern or worry. 


Because I’m still alone. 


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