It's after the fact: only after being so close to someone can you fully realize the potential of your loneliness and solidarity. The slightly nostalgic feeling this time of year; photographs that used to mean something, friends that you used to know, cash spent on frivolous things...

I'm suddenly wealthy, very lonely, displaced, and most importantly -- twenty years old. My reckless youth has caused nothing but the signs of a suddenly very grown, very worn adult, raped of its own former glory and wholesomeness. I'm so tired.