it is the little things i find myself missing in these oppressively quiet moments

arguments over stupid stuff

nonsensical

then making up

i don’t get into many arguments now

i tend to agree with myself that i should do nothing but work and barely existing

it is odd missing moments of turmoil

but they are moments of living

interaction

i have a new fear

it’s been long enough alone now i am concerned i have lost the ability to coexist

i have become used to being alone

have i forgotten how to be around people

how to be a person

it is those little things

the slight touches

holding hands in the car

what was taken for granted

now dream stuff

memories

a former life