I am angry. I feel as though I have been drifting in the water without a piece of driftwood to cling to. Alone and drowning in the ocean of life, the only time a boat appeared on the horizon it spurned the water and attempted to push me down. Suddenly today I am on the shore, dripping wet, cold and surrounded by people who don’t notice my misery. The captain of the boat who only added to my suffering while in the water is happily frollicking on the beach and instead of apology, he offers me condescension and indifference. I will attempt to find a tiny spot of solitude to nurse my wounds and pretend that the indignity never occurred while the wound inside continues to ooze.

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