I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am. From the earliest memories of my childhood, I can remember feeling a sense of segregation from the world around me, a feeling that only intensified as I grew older. It’s not a loneliness born out of a lack of companionship or the absence of loved ones; it’s deeper, more profound. It’s a solitary shroud that envelops my soul, subtly reminding me of my isolation.

As I walk through the bustling city streets, I often find myself observing others with a sense of both awe and envy. Couples strolling hand in hand, faces ablaze with warmth, and friends sharing laughter and secrets without walls around their hearts. They seem so blissfully unaware of the presence of the ribbon that ties me to an ever-distant land. They do not comprehend how even in a crowded room, I can be lost in my own solitude.

I’ve spent endless nights poring over the mysteries of the universe, hoping to find solace in the cosmic vastness. But the stars, those distant flickers of light, only serve as a stark reminder of our insignificance in the grand scheme of things. For what is loneliness but a silent void, a seemingly insurmountable distance between us and the...