I am alone and maybe I should accept that position. Because those who claim to be with me are only apparitions. Wraiths, spectres, flickering shadows in my vision. Whispering of love and friendship, but they’re the hollowest of provisions. Their very speaking of fealty is a feckless act of fiction. But they make me believe it through their masterful renditions. I am a fool for letting my emotions commandeer my volition. Because the end result is always detrimental incisions. But I seek desperately, requited love as my mission. The life permeating love that never goes into remission. It will always choose me, never plagued with indecision. With my well being as its only repetitive inquisition. But life takes and loneliness is my only acquisition. My mind keeps telling me this, but my heart never listens. I am alone and maybe I should just accept that position.