She had experienced heartache and disappointment in her early years, which had left her scarred and wary of forming connections with others. She had withdrawn from society, retreating into the depths of her own thoughts and emotions. Her days were spent in seclusion, surrounded by books, music, and the echoes of her own melancholic musings. In the stillness of the night, her mind would wander through the corridors of her memories. She would replay moments of past joys and sorrows, the laughter and tears that had shaped her existence. Each recollection served as a painful reminder of the fleeting nature of happiness, reinforcing her belief that solitude was her only reliable companion.
As time passed, her isolation became more profound. She grew accustomed to the familiar weight of her loneliness, finding a perverse comfort in its constant presence. She believed that she had forged a bond with her own misery, seeing it as a lifelong friend who understood her better than any human ever could. In her loneliness and misery, she was looking for a light to live.
