And I don’t want to speak too soon but I think that, finally, I am okay with being alone.  It’s a weird thing, really.  It’s like, over the course of the two and a half years I was with someone, I little by little emptied myself into him- into the relationship- until I was hollow.  And after I left him, I ran around and tried to find solace in anyone I could but it never proved successful.  They always fell short.  I always fell short. Over and over and over and now I’m trying to fill myself up again.  Alone.