Long and plenty are the nights longing for touch, validation and finding purpose.
Hoping those who seemed to know you best would sense the need for tactile interaction.
Long have I waited for calls without pretense to just talk, share and smile with those considered part of the inner circle.
When time passes like the flicker of days and tear tracks form river streams leave beds where now the silt of the riches once contained in the path of these moving tides of tears leaves only a gully where once stood pride.
When once close seem but a memory.
When past echoes of laughter are all but forgotten in the rush of a river taking with it the surrounding respected landmarks of the soul swept by the tracks of tears in the valley of regret.

A new dawn this day dries the rivers forever like global warming to the reality of what was once an inner circle now abandoned countryside.
Yes once the river had me pulled with its current of emotional response at each event, yet now the reality of the bright sun has left only the tracks of what was and the packing up of hopes in new directions so as not to be swept by adverse weather patterns that tear away what remains of the dignified respect.
Moving to new locations in the mind and reality where the whim of the current can neither hurt nor decay the foundation fought so hard to achieve.
Fair thee well my past which once brought joy and now only disaster in your wake.
For I with self respect wait no longer to be harmed but move onward to placing new stakes in hopes of weather who would bring the sun to warm the soul, breeze to comfort the sensation of validation.
Yes, even the most loyal of river residents has its limits.
For this very day do I seek joy on my own terms and pride of whom and what I am without the past to hold me back.
And so with the last belonging of dignity, I wave goodbye in an unnoticed reflection and look forward to possibility of a new dawn.

For in the lessons of years, I have learned one thing that he who waits for the beckoning of a few finds only silence and the devastation of the path that tears inflict.
Thank you for the memories I treasure them packed with care upon the boxes of my soul with fondness.
Fair thee well and wish me luck upon the foundation being built for happiness I have evaded much too long.
Today the tracks of tears are being renovated by valleys of hope with soil deposits not dependent upon the generosity of the close few, but the gravitation of the inner me which like the sun will draw the planets who value what this orb has to offer.
No more tears, only hope.