I guess I'll jump onto the bandwagon.

I regularly keep in touch with my parents in Los Angeles. And when I recently caught a case of the dry cough from a coworker, they decided to drive halfway across the state to my apartment. I share the space with three other roommates who, in addition to moving out for the summer, left behind food in their rooms and the refrigerator.

My parents arrived in the middle of the war I waged against the flies. Noticing me discarding rotten food from the refrigerator, they decided to help me clean the apartment. We scoured the kitchen, cleaned the bathroom, and vacuumed the entire place. Not content with stopping there, we then went shopping for groceries to keep me stocked for the summer. We even bought a new trash can to replace our old, slightly broken one.

But that wasn't all. To help me recover from my cough, they cooked meals for me. They prepared soup to remedy my coughing. They changed my bedsheets. And before they set out for home yesterday, they left notes for me about where to find my dinner, which foods to eat, and so on. I am so grateful for my parents. So. Fucking. Grateful.

Anyhow, this morning I ate one of the muffins they bought and headed to work. But when I returned, there were flies in the muffins. I immediately made a phone call to my mom, who scolded me and advised me to wrap my food next time. And for the first time in awhile, I cried. I felt especially bad because my parents took the time to drive halfway across the state for me.

It's silly, I know. As a senior college student, I reasoned that instead of crying over spoiled muffins, I should do something about the flies. Yet when my mom continued to ask me how I was, I couldn't help but feel the tears coming out. It was lame and dumb, but deep inside I knew that I wanted to cry. But strangely enough, I didn't know why.

That's when my mom told me that I was crying because I subconsciously needed to. And for some reason, I thought of the main character in Black Rock Shooter: Mato. She was able to get along with her new friends in school and do fun things together like shopping or going to each other's houses. Then I realized that in my childhood, I never had a core group of friends like Mato. Sure, I could get along fine with everyone else, but ultimately I was left to my own devices. I was lonely. I was crying because I was lonely.

However, I already understand that if I don't want to be lonely, then I should make an effort to find friends or strengthen the relationships I already have. But this is one of those times where I feel insecure and I just want to rant without worrying about what to do. I'm not pleading for help or asking for advice; on the contrary, this is my catharsis. I ask for nothing more than your sympathy.