“My story? Not really sure. But yeah.”

Life was entering the boring zone. I missed him too much and couldn’t believe that I’d even gotten to this point. Life seriously was entering the boredom zone. I recently stopped singing (I can’t believe I just admitted that to you of all people, but who cares right?) I just decided it wasn’t for me anymore. I really hope you can understand my reasoning. So I’m guessing you want to know why singing isn’t my meal ticket anymore, right? I can’t write. He was my inspiration and without him here my words just seem pointless and yeah they fall on deaf ears because they’re not his ears. So yeah boredom really is my home now. Stop me already, you can’t allow me to walk the narrow path of nostalgia this way. Could we go, just leave, just disappear, just run and dance in the rain because it feels like home and I’m missing my home? Better yet let’s dance, let’s chase away the bad and let the music course and swim inside us, levitating us off the ground. I miss his arms, my permanent home…my comfort zone, so warm and inviting. The memories are fading and all I care to remember now is the outer sheath of all things good. But talking about it all with you makes me sad all over and now, I hate to admit it but I long for home. I guess I’ve opened up and laid my cards on the table face down because some things are still too primitively painful. I know it’s strange to say but I do miss singing...true my words are gone and all ears have gone deaf but my voice is newer and I never sang for you, always for me, the smile it brought to his face was just an added bonus. So let me stand tall in front of masses, letting the smile in my song travel through me like a dove searching for the perfect olive tree for its anointing.