The meds sit on the shelf waiting,
Waiting for me to come to terms with
This next go.
My thoughts this time? Hopeful,
Apprehensive, what will be the side effects,
Will it work.
And sad that two friends in particular, who I
Have counted on, felt I’ve been there for, as they so
Have for me,
Are not now. Their lives have now significant others,
Which always trumps anything else, as it should and
You, my Dear,
Are not here. And this time when I am hurting.
No one will hold me. Beyond that, have no idea, really
What to expect.
Except, maybe starting this has started
The realization I can do this alone, however much
I wish otherwise.
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