I pose a question: one that has me so lost in speculation of its answer that everything else becomes minuscule and irrelevant. A question that baffles me and frustrates me to the point of helpless depression and choked tears. A question so strong in its persistence of "why?" that I can not break from it long enough to find an answer. A question which seems so foolish, so childish, so utterly useless. Yet it remains: this gnawing at my heart every time I become aware that the population must be of an odd number, because one is always left out. There is always one who can never find solace. One who will always be alone when another is most needed. And there always seems to be that one who always has someone. One left in abandon and one who is forever wanted. One who will agonize silently and one who will find comfort in another. One who will never get enough and one who has enough to spare. One who has nothing and one who has everything. Do you notice the one who looks at you with desperate eyes? Do you notice the wanting in my voice and the fire that burns my insides? Do you notice that all I want for is some recognition, some sign that you care. All that would make my day is a smile, a call, a "hello, how are you?." But the fact that I am left with this question proves that people are inherently careless and that my expectations are wasted.