Look, some people *want* to see me. How bizarre. But it's still true.
And still more, tiny tiny glimmers of hope but they're still there. I just don't know if I want to pick them up, any more. "There's a dream that strings the road with broken glass for us to hold", and that. (Heh, there's a Duran lyric for everything)
For myself? I *am* ready to try this again. I think I have more chance of getting it right this time.
Oh, I don't know.