The road from Lonely to Alone is a narrow bridge above a crashing sea of hopelessness, sprinkled with the bodies of cowards. My fingers are fading from red to white as they grasp at my last chance of survival. My feet are running through wind and fear and my mind has already fallen. I'm depending on my my physical body to save my soul from demise. My heart is always the first thing to go, although I often say its the strongest. My logic saves my body from my heart over and over again. Don't let go, you can't. Think about them. Whether or not they think about you is irrelevant right now, Larrissa. Let your pride go. You have been here before. The music of my memory creates strength that pulls my body back onto the bridge, just in time for me to collapse and let my feet continue to flirt with the waves. People can't **** me, its their absence that can. Love doesn't strangle me, its love's empty footprints that stand on my lungs. My neck turns my head to gaze at those on the Alone's shore walking strong, with bandaged hands, finding true love but never needing it. The view hurts my eyes and my ego so I look the other way, my vision travels the distance from where I lay back to the lonely crowd, crouched and moaning, catching their tears and calling them friends. Wallowing in their misfortune and pondering life, but none are looking back at me. In this moment, I realize my strength for traveling even this far, so I begin to stand, clumsy and bruised and I finally realize the beauty in collapsing 100 times on this bridge, as long as each fall is separated by an inch of courageous movement.