when you wake up

Sometimes it just dissipates, disolves into something that is no longer recognizable, soemthing that is anything but tangible. And I don't like the dissipation, the disolution, the discongruent paths. And then you question everything how easily it is to fall into friendship and how easily scared people can get. You think you are the scaredest one in the world, but when it comes to this time you felt sure of friendship and then the dissipation factors came and took it away and now you're left with your head in your hands and no answers to questions you never got to ask in a friendship you were hoping would start, but never did.

And hours away, a driving distance, he sat, unknown to me, with people who still can't pull him out of himself. I want to be the one who can, who does, but he won't let me. He's more scared than I could ever understand of scared. He's hiding and maybe when I sleep tonight, I'll find him across the world in California in his desert home, lapping up sand and dust in his Xbox ladened layer, a boy's house with boy's things and so untouched by me, so not what I could help him crawl out of.