If you feel I'm not listening, you're probably right; if you think I'm not paying attention, it's probably even closer to the truth, but if you believe that I don't care, you couldn't be more wrong. It's just not showing. The divide is spreading between what I do and what I love. I feel it every day like a great chasm opening between my feet. I'm good at my job. It comes naturally to me (well, most of it anyway). But to do it and to be successful at it mean that I feel obligated to neglect the things that are most important to me; the things that propel me forward on a daily basis.... the touch of a lover's hand...... a text message reminding me that warm thoughts are sent towards me whether I'm capable of responding or not..... a little girl's plea for a bedtime story after a twelve hour shift....

I am giving myself up to be devoured by something that I do not love, and which does not love me. This is an abominable way to conduct one's life.