I haven’t felt so unsure of things in a while, where my fears of things slipping out of my control are slowly being realised. I missed the times where I was sure – sure of my efforts, sure of the outcomes, sure that I had given my all and that things would work out. Now, I’m not that sure. I’m not sure if I’m good enough for anything or for anyone, if I’m doing what I should be doing, and if I’m doing it right. Perhaps I’ve been trying to hard, and everything becomes a source of pressure. I just need someone there, someone reliable, but what happens when that becomes an additional source of stress and burden? I’ve lost track of what makes me happy, I’ve lost track of who and what I can rely on to be a source of comfort rather, than a source of pressure. So I do the only thing I know, I turn inwards and stop sharing. I keep to myself. I take my bike out. I go for a ride. I tell myself – make this hurt. Very bad.