It’s a sad day when seeing the ones you love happy doesn’t make you happy anymore.

The feeling of perpetual loneliness slowly consuming you as you continue to search for a love that you’ll never find.

The tears that don’t fall because your emotional reservoir is now empty and dry.

The slow sighs of barren, wanting anguish that escape your lungs in the hopes that your “one true love” will come and fill the hollow vase of your heart with their own undying, eternal love.

Or is it solely I?

I, who search far and wide for the person of my dreams while attempting to aid my fellow searchers in their own quest for affection.

I, who put my companions in this journey before my own self so that they find their treasure and do not feel the loneliness of being the sole crewman of the S.S. Lostheart.

I, who sail the vast, vacuous vessel onto the stupendous stygian sea of absolute desolation.

The captain of the least endurable voyage of all existence.

I offer refuge to those who wish to find companionship and a place in this world, this fickle, so-and-so world.

And release to those who wish to have their bonds of commitment cut with the edge of promiscuity for the night.

For I, the captain of the Lostheart, accord more love than I can afford.