Doubts

Am I alone in my yearning?  I often feel that when I whisper into the darkness, the only response is the echo of my own naive words. So difficult to believe, to trust.  Always second guessing my place. Though it pains me, I question every caress.  I wonder how many of those lovely words are scripted and how many truly own their meaning.  Am I just a placeholder, keeping a busy mind occupied? A substitute for what was left behind?  I continue to wander blindly through this maze of uncertainties.