Why am I alone? I am overwhelmed with bitter regret and anger. Everybody has some big blotch of the past they want to delete, there’s no such person who has had a perfect, sugar coated life. I selfishly think that I have it so bad, nobody can relate to me. I am wrong. My peers who put on a happy demeanor have their own skeletons; they seem to know how to function without the past disrupting their routine. I don’t know what went on in their lives. I sit there and in my mind I snicker, thinking these people are so young and naive. I don’t think it’s true. I think I’m different because I haven’t figured out any way of coping like them. It’s almost like I need to belittle the rest of them because I am the champion of sulking and nobody shall surpass me…because it’s the one thing I am good at.