Red, raw, and seething. My company quantified and traded for dinner and a hotel. Seated shotgun with the man who has essentially bought me. Glances in the rear view reveal happy couples, cuddled and content. A car cabin has never felt so vast. I want to reach out for a hand to hold, company to pull from the dense buzz of melancholy. To my dismay there are no desired vacancies. Long has it been since my disillusionment, yet the dull ache hits me just the same.
I've got me. I like me. But I can not quash this desire. And I've grown so tired.
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