What really bothers me

So what really bothers me is the missing love.

I keep thinking and thinking and thinking … about those people who I thought have seen me, but would not say a word.

About a father or mother that did not offer affection I realized.

And those people on the street I am friendly to, but who would not answer this.

It took me long to realize that it’s the missing love that bothers me. Today I see the news and all I can see is missing love. Today I turn around and know they are all busy with other things.

Years ago, I was sure, something was wrong with me.