I’m okay. Frightened. Dis-eased. Slightly numb to the burgeoning optimism. Overcome by lingering anxieties. Anticipating the reclamation of my sanctuary. Weary of my tendency to isolate. Stuck in the now when I need to have an eye on what I will need to do. Mindful of the peculiar absence of regret. Grudgingly pitying my former friend and soon-to-be ex-roommate. I’m me.