I've never felt this homeless or alone.

I lay here in this bed. Awaiting sleep. Awaiting a stroke of brilliance. A new idea of what I'm supposed to do. Of who I'm supposed to be here on my own.
How it must feel to actually be homeless and alone.
I have family.
Although broken we are whole. Together making up for each others differences.
I have friends.
I take some for granted and others I never go a day without. But regardless they are always there for me.
I am not alone.
At this very moment one of my best friends is laying here next to me. She's here. And if I were to wake her up she would be here with me and take away this sadness. But of course I would never ask.

I don't know why I refuse help. Why day after day I think I can do this all on my own. But I do. And I try and I fail. A lot. But i'll keep trying. And hopefully one day I'll accept the help pushed so willingly towards me.
Untill then.

-- me