And so I've moved back to the city for year two of four (who'd have believed that I'd continue on with something, anything?), and it feels different and confused and surreal again, like I'm just starting again. I know about as many people as I did before I ever came here, and the evenings are long and lonely even though there are plenty people to talk to, but I always feel so fucking alone. So fucking alone. I miss home and the comforts it brings. I miss my dogs and the way they'd wiggle their bums and try to talk when you'd come home after a hard day. I miss the comfort of my living room. My bed with my pillow and my mattress that doesn't have springs sticking out of it making it impossible to sleep. Today it occurred to me that I might just have to drop out again because everything feels so goddamn difficult, but I can't do that again, I need to stick it out and to make my own circle in a city that's far too big with far too many people that really couldn't give less of a shit.