On a rainy afternoon, I walk through the city without an umbrella, wrapped in sadness. I avoid eye contact with those around me, treated as if invisible. Human connection is necessary, yet I'm terrified of it. No one truly worries about me. They may feel sympathy, but no one reaches out. Kind words and gentle feelings mean nothing when action is absent. Colder than the autumn rain, I stand alone in this bustling city, carrying my loneliness. Today, I was dumped by my boyfriend. We had been together for three years. His reason was simple: "I've fallen for someone else." Though harsh, his honesty cleared my heart—better than being misled by half-hearted kindness. Yet his straightforwardness didn't even allow me to express lingering feelings. Still, I loved his honesty, so I couldn't say a word. How long will I remain trapped in regret, struggling, living in loneliness? Maybe walking in this rain began from a desire for someone to worry about me. I know it's irrational, but I can't stop. Clearly, I'm hurt, troubled, and lonely. I want someone to call out to me. If someone does, they can have me—such is the sentiment I find myself indulging in. I always thought I was strong, but a long-term breakup leaves deep wounds. And yet, I catch myself thinking, "I guess I'm just a girl my age after all," a strangely endearing realization. I almost laugh. Then, I hear, "Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" Looking up, a man stands before me. His appearance and demeanor are unsettling, his approach clumsy—someone I'd never normally engage with. But right now, even this feels warm. I crave human warmth. As I follow him, I think, "Whatever this man does to me today is fine." This is just one moment of my weekday life.