Because I met someone, and all of a sudden, I was reminded of what it is that has been keeping me from true happiness. I think I’ve always known it, but only, I was too afraid to look at it, and see it in its barest form. All this time, all I needed was a warm, little touch; and it would have made everything so much better. Things would be better now. But alas, it eludes me; my happiness eludes me. I can barely recall what I said or heard or felt. It wasn’t a tremendous experience by any standard; just a fleeting one, but one that made all the difference; that potentially had the cure to this unyielding illness. I have nearly forgotten what it is like to be a real human being. I go around those daily chores, smiling and laughing whenever is appropriate, and I demonstrate to everyone the happiness that I deceive myself with. They think I am well, and that my smiling and laughing are borne of genuine emotions. I tell some of them that I am dead on the inside, and we laugh about it. But really, I am dead on the inside. I am kept alive only by a beating heart.