It is hard, sometimes, to come home alone in the dark to a darkened, empty apartment to a dark and solitary room and to wash my face and brush my teeth in a  dark and chilly bathroom, then curl up into a lonely twin bed. It is hard sometimes to have no sleek black cat purring and pressed against my hip and no one to stay up too late to keep me company or tell me they love me or kiss me goodnight.

Most all of the time I am satisfied and happy here, but sometimes it is not very close to easy for reasons that aren’t very close to large.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow will be brighter.


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