Posthumous

I'm on the train to teach and I'm surrounded by people. And all I keep thinking is how alone I am. As the tears well up. And I think about how hopeless I feel and wonder where all my dreams and ambitions went. When did I lose them? How? Did they fall out of my pockets? Spill onto the sidewalk? Did they fall at the same time you did?

Every day feels so hard. That same monotony. That same feeling of nothing. Nothing. No thing.