And I don’t want to speak too soon but I think that, finally, I am okay with being alone. It’s a weird thing, really. It’s like, over the course of the two and a half years I was with someone, I little by little emptied myself into him- into the relationship- until I was hollow. And after I left him, I ran around and tried to find solace in anyone I could but it never proved successful. They always fell short. I always fell short. Over and over and over and now I’m trying to fill myself up again. Alone.