I wrote this piece a few years back and the sad truth is I still haven’t answered this question. Enjoy the poem.

Am I bored or am I alone?
Or am I bored of being on my own
Twiddling toes, with nowhere to go
No one to phone in an empty home
Why do I have days like these?
Wondering where my friends might be
Would these mates actually like me,
If I passed up a beer, for a cup of tea?
Is this what we claim it is?
Can we be sure enough to answer this
When living apart is the hardest bit
And it hurts more when your hearts in it
If I close my eyes will it look the same?
Would it hurt less if I took the blame
Or will I still remember the pain?
If Iā€™m ever able to forget your name

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