Your thoughts are a river that floods the rest of your mind, a current so strong that it could overpower even the strongest of men. Told to relax, the thought itself mystifying, as elusive as the beauty you chase and the love you desire. Twenty five, but already pining for the youth you wasted, flaunted so effortlessly by those around you, slender bodies, defined features, smiles that betray a sense of contentment that was once yours, melting away as the years pass by in such a hurry that you barely notice, until confronted by those that remind you of what you once had. You find yourself longing to go back and try it all again, the benefit of hindsight blindingly obvious but perfectly ignorable. You’re better now, healthier, maybe even happier, thoughts of suicide dissipated, but still obsessed with what could have been, what you missed out on, what you let slip through your fingers. How to reconcile what could have been with what still could be, how to accept what is lost and look forward to what can be found, how to let go of the past because you can finally see a future. The spotlight was once yours to take if you wanted it, so confident were you that you could walk into a room and immediately become the centre of attention, but now the spotlight shines only in your own head, your time has passed, your beauty faded, your envy of those around you undeniable, obvious, embarrassing.