I’m always tired. Not physically fatigued. Just lacking any source of excitement. I can’t remember the last time I genuinely looked forward to something. I’m anxious. I fantasize about not getting off at the right stop every morning before work. Whenever I hear people laugh. I can’t help but think they’re laughing at me. I want more. But I’m afraid of not being good enough. I daydream a lot. I question whether there is something wrong with me. I wonder whether I’m crazy and nobody has the heart to tell me. I’m not sad but I’m not happy. I can’t remember the last time I cried or the last time I beamed with joy. None of this indicates anything tangibly wrong with my life. I just feel like I’m not where I’m meant to be.