The first noticeable moment was when I felt the summer sun hit my skin, yet I did not feel its warmth. Instead, I felt something burst inside me like a breaking bone, but without the pain. It went on as if I had lost someone. My mind was off-balance. My body did not understand simple tasks anymore – it wanted release. In the instant I pierced my skin, I immediately felt whole again. I never realized that feeling would be my prey – my dangerously brilliant prey – that I would hunt for the rest of time. I was not drowning or sinking or suffocating – I was floating in a cloud of uncertainty. Suddenly, the beliefs I once knew were true became distant. I was petrified and reluctant to admit it to myself. By this point I was solely surviving but fictitious stories allowed me to conceal my issues. I believed, for a while, that I was good at hiding, until people began to question me. Denying all the accusations was exhausting sense, honestly, I could not care less any longer. I slowly quit speaking. Only unless I was spoken to first did I attempt to have a conversation. It was like I had been in a crowd my whole life then, without knowing, I was abruptly standing alone in overwhelming silence. It was the kind of silence that made you clearly hear your heart beating in your chest. There was no single thing for me to do, saying that I was lost with no hope of discovering a compass. I was finally able to comprehend that that summer day it was my desire to live bursting out of my chest. Now, I feel the pain. Just like a broken bone.