A foggy day. Unusual. Snow clinging to each branch of the lone tree.
A sense of solitude. Like there is no one else in the world. Like no one else in the world will ever really know you.
Sometimes the solitude, the quiet is welcomed. Sometimes you just need someone to hold you tight and tell you it's going to be alright.
Sometimes no matter how much you need not to be standing on your own. you are.
Sometimes they say it's not you. But it has to be. Partially. At least. Or you wouldn't feel so alone.