Sometimes you feel bad and you just and you just snap. You think you're dead or at least feel that way. Depressed. Loveless. Home-body. Hatred to everything. Until someone comes along and you start to feel your heart beating. This must be someone special you think. Same interests and loving the same things you do. You begin thinking that this person is your inspiration. You're alive. Happy. Loved. Traveler. Liking everything around you. You think more and for a while you start to believe in Cloud 9. I know. Everyone goes there. It's called love. I guess. Well at least my mother seems to say so. Why do people love and hate? I don't know. But I do know I met someone and now I'm alive. When I smile I mean it now. Before it was just to hide away the pain. I'd never cry back then, but now I feel like I have a shoulder to cry on and someone to laugh and talk with. I like it. No. I love it! But something is missing. But what? Darn... I hate questions like that. I guess I want more from the person I came alive with. Oh well. I guess this kind of stuff happens with everyone. That is if you know what I mean.