The Immaculate Void

Home was the people, not the place.

He longed to die. He longed to live. He longed to die to live again in some smarter version of this life. He yearned for it, prayed for it, then wept a tsunami when he realized he was the very god he was praying to, and that it was even more helpless than he was.

Grief? Anger? Confusion? You couldn't drink those away. They would still be waiting for you when you sober up, stronger than before because now you were weaker.