I envy the ones who are not alone, who know they have a place to come to. They say home is where the heart is, and as I am now homeless, I long for this feeling of belonging I once had. I miss being able to forget all the petty problems and everyday issues, deep in your arms; I miss having someone to share my doubts and questions with, and I miss having someone to comfort, someone to take care of. They also say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but as I  contemplate the string of miseries that has been my life for the past few months, I am not so sure; lucky the one who never tasted true happiness, for he will never know of the gaping hole in his chest, insidiously oozing its black, dour treacle in your every thought. It is hard to enjoy something with no one to share it with, and the bitter pang of knowing that even the best of things would have been better with you, how delusional and stupid that may sound, doesnt help either.