Old poem, still works

Old poem I wrote a year ago (27 July 2007). When I was still not quite far enough from high school. I still like it, even after all this time. Some lines are a bit "nehhhh..." but a good majority of the poem expressed my feelings well. Discussed with a friend about the title, "Lonely, part I," and he wondered if there was a part two. I seriously can't remember, but I decided to leave it like that because it more aptly describes the poem. You assume there's a counterpart somewhere, but there actually/seemingly isn't--the definition of lonely?

Lonely...part I

you walk through the rain,
laughing with with him,
both of you under that big umbrella
and i can barely keep myself dry under one
small
handheld
because I can't hold another's
wrapped around my shoulders.
rain on my jacket
i don't have to pretend it's rain
because it's physically impossible to cry behind you.

walking
holding hands
the subtle hidden touch
as you walk in front of him
i don't know if you do it because only one person can fit through the door
or if you want to say
'he's mine, and you'll have to deal with me,'
or whether he's saying,
'i follow her only.'
but why do you hide them?
show what you've got,
because i am the blind virgin
and i have no god to let me see.

you talk and talk
for an hour, maybe more,
considerate to me,
the lonely
fingers married to the keyboard
because words are my only fibers of the heart
with which i could possibly brush against another.
you say good night
five million different ways
and maybe you say it softly
because 'good night' is a sweet, soft sound,
or maybe you say it softly out of consideration for me,
because i have lived only in the harsh world,
and maybe, just maybe,
those few words for another touch me, too.
They touch me, but they sting,
like spicy Indian food
not when you say them
but minutes later
when you're asleep
with 'sweet dreams' in your head,
and i continue to lie awake in the darkness for another hour
staring at the ceiling
the walls
the windows
anything to keep my mind going
because if it stops
my heart stops
and thinks
and realizes that i am alone.

i am alone in the shower
yet i can't scream to myself
because someone will hear
someone closer than you could ever be
someone who lives in my mind
and knows me better than i do.
my subconscious knows
he knows whom i like
and why i like him
and he haunts me with images;
i don't know what they mean.
i am alone when you are off,
i dance and dream of days that could be
if pigs could fly and mosquitos would ask before biting.
if only i could
but that never happens.
nothing i dream of happens.

i feel bad,
because those who have guys for them care so much
and I wish for
dumps
drama
death
disease
anything destructive
so you can be alone, too.
i am good at being alone
being alone and not letting you know i hate it
how i hate the emotional barrier between mind and heart
how i can't let go
i let you think i'm cool
so you don't have to be alone
and when you are
i am there for you
because God must know it is Hell
to be lonely by yourself.