It is impossible to discern what may have gone wrong. Was I living too long on oatmeal and cotton candy? I struggle to drag myself beyond the confines of my hermitage, where it is clear I have stayed too long. I can only hope that tomorrow I shall be strong enough for my daily labor, and shall be able to put aside both despair and longing.
Why so soon must appear the thwarting of hope that threatened to burst so brightly despite all attempts to temper it?
