People always ponder how one could live in isolation but never what it takes to get there. From the outside, it seems the one existing on the outskirts of reality is bitter, lonely, grappling with an understanding of peace. Maybe the general consensus gathers an individual's aversion to society. But what is not seen are the years trying to come to terms with betrayal and investing time and energy toward false hopes and intentions. What others don't see are the chances given that keep blowing up in their face or the promises broken to oneself about how this time will be different only to be scolded again. They picture a spiteful, lonely silhouette that keeps to themselves, but never the monsters who sucked the life out of them.