She doesn't know what kind of dread is worse
Than the fear of impending loneliness.
All good times must come to an end
And that's okay...but what if she's afraid
That there'll never be another good time
With the ones who make it worthwhile.

Everyone's fading away
Turning their backs on each other
It hurts worse this way, you guys!
That's what she wants to shout
When everyone thinks the best way
Is to pretend the good times never happened.

She starts to question everything.
Was she always alone?
Will she never find that place again?
That shining golden sunshine place
When everyone was a friend
And she even had a best friend.

She is herself, vibrant, ever-changing,
Flooded with color and light.
She thrills in making people happy
And she knows she can be happy.
Once the tears clear her eyes,
She can remember.

She is still alone.
But she doesn't feel it
The way she did when she was lonely.
Tomorrow...she'll have to see.
Once again, she'll probably be lonely.
But in a week...maybe there'll be good times again.

When was the last time I came here?
I can't remember the last time I needed this place.
And then all these images, memories, flooded through me.
I remembered everything that had happened in my past
that might have changed who I became.
Every sad, cynical moment,
whether it be a tragedy on TV
or a revelation from my own experience.
And all the incredible beauty I had seen in my short life.
Every time I'd come here last,
I'd come with a sad and lonely, afraid and anxious, numb and brooding mind.

Here I was in the woods, the way they had been for so long,
once-delicate leaves compacted into gray, crunching masses
on the trodden dirt
and rusted, crumpled cans
marking the slow death of the place I'd always treasured.
I sat down hard, saturating my worn black jeans
with the tired old mud of this sad place,
and sifted through the dead leaves
for some of that beauty that was my faintest memory.
There was none.
It was almost as if my mind had created that memory on its own...
And of course that's what had happened.
I'd always been good at imagining and wishing.
How sad to think that now imagining is all I'll be able to do.