I think what I have gained is the knowledge that no one is your best anything, and there’s nothing one cannot get through and over with the almighty Time. The beauty in thinking in non-absolute terms; the strength it is to adopt it — quite rewarding. Yes, it must be a profoundly fortunate incident to undergo in life: to receive the feeling of certainty about someone, to bask in the sense of security and to amaze at the surreal joy that come along with it. Undeniably warm. Unrealistically fantastic. It is not to break the “bubble,” if one is so crude to call it such, when I speak of the replaceability of company and the irreplaceability of aloneness. Relationships external to your own with your self are culminated, practiced, and repeated. I was surprised to realize: it was largely, if not entirely, just an addiction, after all. And I am an avid believer in myself as a person without an addictive personality, which leaves me the conclusion that it was but an addiction on the brain; a mental, Pavlovian trickery I have been so open and decadent in granting myself permission to being conditioned to, to salivate over and over, addictively repeated my desires followed by gratification, and at times, dissatisfaction followed by self-torture; self-torture in playing a Stanford prisoner, fully sleeping on my Stockholm syndrome.