I’m lonely and sad. Not as sad I have been before – the sharp pain of feeling like I have no one is not exactly the only companion I have any longer. That pain moved on, and instead I’m truly alone, not feeling empty, but seeing the empty space that was once loneliness now reminds me how I truly feel about myself. At some point in my young life I saw meaninglessness in following the things that brought me joy and made me feel, just to make myself stop feeling, and by association I became undeserving of joy. That was the path that I had built for myself up until now. Now I keep tentatively following the pavement of that path, but trying to look around – backwards, forwards, to every side, up and down sometimes – to get myself out of here. I can see many other paths, paths that don’t even require pavement or anything, that are so much more suitable.