Why not keep it to myself? Who will read it — or listen? — or hear?

And yet, who doesn’t feel like this?

I identify with the voices who ask these questions. Who will care? What have I even said?

I struggle to put into words that this is an offering.

And yet, I recognize why I write such things down — and even dare to share them. I recognize my “aloneness” in these feelings and, in doing so, I know I’m not alone.

Who feels like this? I do.
Maybe you do too.