Update
I'm still alive. I'm doing well. I am on track, mostly doing what I'm supposed to do and what is the best for the future. I don't think she cares about me anymore though. I don't have to think, I know. I know what I'll have to do over the next few pivotal months of my life, and I think I have a change of succeeding. This summer I'm catching a glimpse of what life would look like a year from now.
Sure, I'll meet amazing people, probably become good friends with a few of them, probably would decide to start a project/product/company together. I'll have fun, but I'll be empty. I don't feel like I want to dedicate that much attention to anyone anymore. I haven't felt happy for quite some time now; frequency would only go down with time.
Sitting here thinking and writing is futile and overindulgent. It does not change the environment around me whatsoever. Why bother philosophizing when I'm just a hopeless romantic who desperately needs to get things done to feel like I'm worth something.