What happened? You were there, you must have seen it. I keep thinking there must be something I don't remember. I've got a decent job, I have lovers and friends. So why do I feel so numb and separate? Why do I feel like a failure? For years, for most of my recollected life, I'd walked carefully over a subterranean well of boredom and hopelessness that lied just beneath the thin outer layer of my imagination. If I'd stood still for too long, if I'd given in to repose, I'd have fallen through.