not there

I find I get on the computer over and over. I've checked my email (sweepstakes entry invites); I've checked Facebook (playdates & date nights & rehashing of get-togethers that I wasn't part of again). Then I realize what I'm looking for. And I'm not going to find it on the computer. I'm looking for the rest of me, the part that's been dislodged. My heart searches all the time and when I get online, there's always a part of me trying to remember what I was going to do. . . Now that I've put it in words, I hope my subconscience stops hoping to find it. It's not there.

don't let me be lonely tonight

I miss the person who (I thought) used to be here. Not the one he is now. The one he was then. Who glimpsed my pain and deflected its force. Who occasionally would hint at his own pain, which I would be sure to buffer if possible.

We could laugh together at things, the way old friends do. Now we never will.

I miss being part of a family - part of anything, really. How long 'til I'm part of something again? Or will I always be alone like this - in head and heart and home?

Question I'd like answered today: Why did you have to be cruel instead of accepting divorce like a man? Why did you have to ruin what could have been in our future?