On our way back

Something not quite fair about missing him when we are in the same room, same vehicle, same bed..

So many times I want to reach out and hold him, crawl into his lap and be rocked like a baby. I know he'd welcome me. Why can't I get there?

It is so much deeper than it reads.

I'm tired of being lost. I'm sick of crying for something that is so attainable yet I am unable to reach it. I'm weary. I, too, am tired of being tired...