Two souls sat on a worn-out park bench, the city's dim lights blurring into the soft darkness of the evening. One seemed to have found a cynical comfort in their solitude, while the other was still grasping for a different truth. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, a silent prelude to a conversation they both knew was inevitable.

“When you feel sad and lonely, who do you imagine to be lonely with?”

- “Nobody, loneliness for me was once a pain, now I rather find comfort in it.”

“What if everyone left you behind what would you do then?”

- “Well not everyone will leave me behind silly I’ll have my shadow with me.”

“Isn’t that sad?”

- “It is for those who live in delusion, but in reality, when you take your last breath, you do it alone .”

“What do you do when you’re frustrated sad and hurt?”

- “I cry.“

“Is that how you express your emotions and feelings?“

- “No.”

“Then?”

- “ I cry, because after I’m done, people assume I’ve cheered up. If I don’t cry, they will continue to ask questions like “are you okay?”. Even when we both know that I’m not, they’ll still force me to answer reality, when I’m dying to escape it.”