Our experience is not unique. At some point each and every one of us wakes up in the middle of the night and is haunted by these unimaginably heavy thoughts that we are alone in this finite existence and nobody will ever love us, at least not the way we think we deserve to be loved. We are certain that we shall never again have a peaceful night's sleep, and that we will endlessly wander through the boulevard of loveless souls, hoping desperately our circumstances will improve, yet quietly suspecting, in our heart of hearts that love's curse shall never be lifted and we will remain unloved until the end of our days. He is no different than anyone of you. That is why he will forever write words which have already been written time and time again, for the past keeps collapsing into the present, and the future is never quite enough to dig him out.
