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It’s 3:53am.

I am sitting in my parent’s living room while ESPN creates a static drone to break the night’s silence. I’ve been mindlessly staring at this television for five hours now and I couldn’t tell you a single thing about what I’ve seen. I can’t get outside of my head long enough to drift away to sleep. My brain constantly aches from the mental lashings I’ve been giving myself for the past few months. For the first time in my life I have fallen into what seems to be slight depression. This isn’t something I’m familiar with. It’s like I’m in a foreign country and I can’t seem to pick up the language. I can feel my smile begin to gloss over like a cataract. My patience is beginning to dwindle and seeing old friends now feels like another responsibility. Force a smile and a joke down their throats so no one asks any questions. Five years has passed now. How well do they even know me anymore? Does anyone know who I am anymore? Sometimes I’m not even sure who I’ve become.

What used to feel like comfort has become dull and grey. I need the next chapter. I need to feel purpose. I need May.

It’s 4:12am.