I'm not very good at empathy.

I can't read the room and feel what nobody has spoken of.

I can see when somebody is sad,

but it's not like I can feel it.

Of course, I can try. 

when I was in fifth grade, 

my dog died.

we had her before I was born.

we cremated her.

When I was five, I remember running across an open field on some warm summer day. We were flying kites, and I chased the one shaped like a bird, imagining I was flying right with it.