I feel as if there is a seed that was planted in all of us to search for definition, whether it be of self or of anything else, but search for definition none the less. As if the things that provide the worth are even there, and not ever more present in the distance of two individual selfs. As the past would show us, even in its weakest state, it is still distance that determines who is what. It's so easy to forget that it's believed we spend our time searching for things, when really we're just trying to find where they begin. Even though beginnings in themselves are easy to find since there so many of them, almost none of them are the same. This also is why they are frightening; because there has never been anything in humanity's existence that is more terrifying than uncertainty, and finding a lack of, in places that were once full.
Everything turns into: "There was so much here, and now there is nothing."
Eventually, you start to only think about the specifics in life that were absent from you, and you even try to remeber things you know were never there. This happens to everyone at some point, and most never understand it when it does. And at best, you learn to not see people as a place to go.