And so, I still find myself going back. Back to the time when everything made sense, when the thoughts flooded onto the paper endlessly, thoughts without thinking. I almost wish this had never happened, that these feelings had never engulfed me like this. They forced me to become lost, to lose myself in the hope that this could work. But the only thing that seems to work is my mind, my gears turning, coming up with all the worst situations possible. I only wonder what could have been, although I know, my life would have been the same before as throughout. Now I am changed. Not necessarily by the experience, but by the emotions this experience inflicted upon me. I know I said I couldn’t think, couldn’t write clearly, but this is not due to a lack of thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about it, actually. I can’t write clearly because I have too many thoughts, I can’t even make them out. They’re all blending together until gradually, but within a single second, my head will explode. I wish I never knew this feeling, this emotion. I can’t focus on anything anymore. I can barely write my thoughts now. Even so, I probably won’t be able to understand this when I’m through. So I continue racking my head against this wall, trying, still trying, just to make sense of it all.