Lost dreams and tea

The one-day's, the maybe's, the I-hope's, the imaginary-future-game's, the can't-wait's, and the we-should's.

The Ghost of life itself wondering up and down your hallway humming a sweet sad song, reminding you of the opaque alternative you refused to nurture and cherish.

It's the words of comfort from others that unknowingly stab at your sense of solitude. It's the progression of comfort you provide yourself to reject pity. It's convincing yourself you're better off to avoid the pain of accepting your misdemeanors.

P1: there's plenty of fish in the sea, you've just gotta get back out there
P2: I'm better off alone, I have freedom, I can do whatever I want, and I have so much more time and money now.
P1: you'll change your mind, someone else will come when you least expect it and sweep you off your feet.

I live out my days on lost dreams and tea, but if I am not mad, then who else will I be?