It's almost fall and the emptiness is returning. I don't have fancy euphemisms to describe how heavy my heart feels. I don't have the twisted wordplay to make my readers believe I'm not fine this time. I don't have the ideal lyrics to correlate with my self-diagnosed depression. It's 1:37 am, and I'm listening to 'Heal' by Tom Odell. I've been staring at my phone since half past noon, Backspacing rose thorn speeches, Going through my contacts but halting at that one name, Fighting and resisting the idea of running back to familiarity, But this is my redemption, and this is my story.