Look, if you just want to do nothing except lament the human condition, I feel you. There’s this part of my brain that wants to do exactly the same thing. Sit down, wrapped in blankets and drinking hot cocoa, and just be a depressed sloth. It’s the same part that loves dogs way too much, hates putting on socks, and for some reason thinks that stupid egg yolk thing is adorable and so relatable.

It’s also responsible for the empathy I can extent to the suit who angrily bumps me during my commute, the bum who rattles a cup for change, the nice cashier who wishes me a good day or the listless one who doesn’t even make eye contact. It’s the soul that aches at the engrained picture of that Syrian toddler face down on the beach, dressed as if he could be in school. But it’s also the one who feels a pang of sadness for Dylan Roof, for what on earth would drive another person to such regretless evil.

None of us ask to be born. And the only permanent, unescapable companion to the loneliness of my body and mind is the specter of death. That physically, we all are on this pale blue dot, not even a spec in the infinitely expanding void; temporally, our existence isn’t even a blink in the unstoppable march of time. And it’s from that same part of my brain that I am sincerely, truly, and with only love, so sorry for you, because I am so sorry for myself.

So do whatever the fuck you want. I really have no reason to judge. Hell, I’ll even crash your self-pity party every now and again, with heaving sobs and unrelenting sorrow. I know. I want to be there too.

But most days, the rest of me picks up the sad sack and pats him on his back. There, there. It’s not going to be okay. Mornings suck. But I’m here, right now, just for myself. And frankly, that’s not that bad is it? So what if I don’t matter to anyone else? I’ll lean on myself. I like myself! And if that sad sack of me can stop crying for a moment, and lift his head, he’ll see we’re all leaning on each other. In big ways, or small ways; over the internet, or over dinner; co-workers, strangers, pen pals, celebrities and idols, authors and artists, family, friends, loved ones, ourselves. Maybe we’re not so alone. Maybe we have ourselves. Maybe we have each other. Maybe that’s just enough, to just put one foot in front of another, and sometimes to support someone else who needs to lean too.