I began to wonder, like so many times before, just what my place in life was. Is. Would be. Nothing specifically jumps out to me. I’m unaware of any particular niche I fill as of this moment. “What could possibly have need of me?” The thought rings ever consistently, constantly. I have what I deserve. I am what I deserve. Nothing seems more accurate. Nothing seems so familiar. An old coat lost to time. Memories faded, scrubbed to the point that the cause of such a discarded article seems absurd.

The questions begin to mount. “What’s the point?”

“Do I have a place in this world anymore?”

“Did I ever?”

“Have I done all I was here to do?”

“Do you need me anymore?”

“Did you ever really?”

“What am I?”

“To you…”

“To me…”

“In general.”

I don’t know that there ever truly was a place just for me. Or, just a place at all. I’ll forever be alone. A Sheppard. Guide. To bring them where they need to be. To the paths they should take. Unable to traverse one of my own. I don’t have the right. Perhaps I never did. Happiness will forever elude me. “What does noble even mean?”

“Is that what this is?”

“Am I doing this wrong?”

“What am I supposed to be feeling right now?”

“Should I be feeling anything?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“What if I’ll never be okay?”

“What is okay…?”

In a few months I’ll have used up my usefulness. I’ll be cast aside I’m sure. Thrown away like the trash that I am.

Call me nothing. No more. Nameless, faceless, without being. I am no human. No individual. Of no worth. It just is.