nothing

I am nothing— but not like the kind of nothing that you can't see, hold, or even possess. I am the kind of nothing you find at the bottom of your purse or the bottom of your pocket. I am like that annoying lint— that weird stuff you always have to take a long minute to fish out— or all that purse dirt, gum wrappers, and receipts. But yes, you know— the nothing that is consistently bothering you? That is me! I am that annoying lint junk. The only difference is, this lint-like stuff is also very much like a little child who is pulling at its mother's dress to get her attention. But this little child has feelings— and feels rejected and thrown out, like that lint.