I long to flee, anywhere but far, so very far. To be alone, yet to have someone upon whom I might lean. I fear the future, and yet I yearn to move forward. But far away. One day, I think, I shall not awaken. I do not believe I was made for this world. Something is missing; I bear a void I cannot fill. I wish to be hopeful, to reassure myself, but there is this anchor that holds me fast, that prevents me. I feel myself sinking, falling, with no hand extended toward me. No one is truly there, not even when I believed them to be. I would fall, yet their gazes would be turned elsewhere. I would vanish, alone. I feel alone. Truly, as if I feel it in my very soul. And it aches. But I believe I am too fearful to put an end to this suffering for good. Perhaps it is a vain hope that still glimmers within me? Perhaps deep down, I still believe. In the infinite possibilities life might offer. And yet, this world oppresses me. I want to flee. To escape. To think of nothing. To feel the cold upon my skin, the rain streaming down it and carrying me away with it. I want the wind to bear me far off. I want to leave. I want. I want to feel free and happy. I want to be able to cherish this life. But if I cannot, it does not matter; I shall depart.