Is it obvious?

I'm disappointed, let down. Most of all, I'm sorry. Was this part of the plan? I don't understand, yet I finally do. It's been so long, too long. Where was I? For once, not asleep. I look back, and it's not hazy. It's real. But it's not me. Fun? Yes. So then, what's the problem? Is there a problem?
It happened. There's no getting around it. I can't deny it. And yet, I don't feel the need to. Maybe I'm just too far gone. Maybe I can't get it back. Maybe I'll never get back to that point where I'll care. But is caring necessary? Or was that all just like the winter, long and harsh and contained?
Can't you just take me to back to that place where you were, where I still am?
I don't even know this. Any of it. It's not even vaguely familiar. I miss the words and the voices and the thoughts. I miss laying in bed with nothing to do and being satisfied. I miss staring off into space and being lost inside. I miss the stories inside my head that, once started, never stop.
Yet I could never give this up. It's more than just you. It's all of them, it's us. It's actually laughing. It's not coming home and being locked up. It's not containment. It's freedom. But is it too much?
Can't I just find where it all collides?