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There is a sensation inside. A feeling like something was there, but now is gone. Being familiar, yet foreign at the same time. It feels like a hunger, eating you away from the inside. Though it makes one sad at times, it in itself is not sadness. Almost a loneliness, but to be lonely means that you are longing for something. I long for nothing other than what is necessary. One may think that it may be a wanting of companionship or perhaps friendship, but in solitude there is bliss. The time at which I wanted things is now over, for I can provide what I need while still being alone. While the closeness of being with someone and the intimacy that it provides is sweet at times, it more often than not is bittersweet or just plain bitter. I am not bitter from some odd occurrence of life, but just from the process of life as a whole. I need no words of wisdom or the sharing of compassion. There is no urgency in these thoughts, as they are purely my musings as of late. Just as we all must eventually die, so shall this feeling. I do not seek death nor some ending to it all, for not having the answers we seek is a normality of life. We all experience this at some point, though most do not know what it is. As of now I have no name for it, and I wonder if I ever shall. I will ponder more on this, for my musing are not yet complete.