After a long ride I finally reached home. Being alone with your thoughts can be a scary thing. I sat on the couch and listened to Drake. The cd ended and I was alone. I felt alone. Not a single soul had a called. No one to stop by and no one to visit. Alone. I sat and looked out the window and wondered where the cars on my street were driving to. Were they going somewhere interesting? Were they going to visit someone? Was their someone waiting on their company? Or were they just like me alone with their thoughts? I didn’t know what to think about. I didn’t know whether I should be happy or sad. I didn’t know how to feel. I thought about him for a brief minute. Then I thought why, he hadn’t thought about me all day. No call. No text. Deterred away by the abandonment I shifted my mind. It seems like when I’m gone everyone is hitting me up. “Lo when you gone get back?” “Lo I miss you when you coming to visit?” “Lo we gone get up when you back, promise.” So when I return I call those same people back, to no avail. Huh? But I press forward and sit in this room alone with my thoughts. I think about how good it’s going to feel when I finally make it as a screenwriter and director. And how vacations will be worth the wait. I think about the money I’ll blow on material things and the people I’ll meet along the way. But then again with all that success I think about how I’ll probably be in a room alone with my thoughts. So I open my window and listen to the birds chirp, and the cars and trucks drive on I-77. I listen. I listen for anything because silence is golden yet scary. So I’ll probably go out tonight, have a few drinks, manage to false a fake smile, and come back home. Not insecure just insecure about being too alone. Maybe I should cry because crying is cleansing. But I don’t know what to cry about so that will have to wait. I think about my loved ones and how I know they love me back. I know I’m in their thoughts. I begin to smile. Just like that my mood shifts. I hate being bipolar sometimes. Not really bipolar. Just my libra scales. So now I’m happy and alone with my thoughts. Yeah I know, that’s why I write cause otherwise you would think I’m crazy.