I know, I know, it's my own fault really

Tonight I did some cooking and cleaning, and when I came home to my empty apartment, I turned on the TV just so I could hear some noise and I set a place at the table just so I could feel like I was going through the motions of civility.

I left the hospital today hoping that someone would talk to me, have a chat with me beyond the weather and how the local teams are doing. I'd like someone to ask me how my day was and wait for a real answer.

The problem with living a solitary existence is that when you're lonely, there's no recourse. And sometimes, it's nice to have someone give a shit about how your day went. And I have some clinic patients who are real troublemakers, but I give them 30 minutes of my life, let them unload all their worries and fears and concerns on me, just to get it off their chest. And they feel better, and they do better.

Sometimes, it's wonderful to have someone listen, and that's a beautiful thing. And I wish I had someone like that. And it's sad that people are paying to see me for something as simple as that.

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