Voices rang in her head as if trying to communicate that something had been lacking for such a substantial time that she no longer saw it as lacking but as the normality that it served in her life.
She became accustomed to the constant lacking of sustainability that it served as nothing but a blanket of sheer comfort to her being.
Uncertainty was the one certain correlation between holding on and feeling fulfillment because it was the only common trait anyone had ever presented at the doorstep of truth she held so dearly to her heart.
She became fixed on it - searching for the ability to communicate emotion and more so the constant question of whether or not her invested time had been to them what it was to her ever longing, love struck, wanderlust soul.
Was she a fool or was she holding onto the parts of those around her that even they failed to recognize exist?
Foolish or foreseeing?
She had yet to decipher the difference and had but the slightest clue as to if she ever would, and that served as comfort to her misguided heart.