Harvest moon

Another late night phone call. She’s an organ donor. You will never comprehend my pain. I regret the asshole I became, yet we live in two different worlds. I pray that you never experience what I have however, it is inevitable and when you do I hope they are there to catch you when you buckled at the knees. In hindsight, I wish I could stay home, tune out the noise external and create Excel spreadsheets. You don’t know who I am. It never occurred to you I exist.