Through the foggy window.

I am sitting on the inside of an oh so foggy window.
Waiting, watching.
gazing through the blur, watching my life fall apart right before my eyes.
I pound, I scream, I cry, for me to hear myself.
I watch relationships catch wind and float to the skies, right past my head.
My hand crashes upon the cold glass.
My hopes are floating above my head, but I can't get myself to look up.
What is going on?
Can I even hear me anymore? Or have I become immune to it all?
I continue to watch it all drift away, in hopes that the window will soon become a door.