I can be on the adventure of a lifetime. I can spend a night out going to fantastic places and meeting fantastic people. I can make new friends and make a new history for myself.
But all I need is one stupid cat meowing expectantly at my door for the room's previous occupant, and I break into a fit of weeping. Because more than anything, I know what it's like to miss someone who's no longer there.
I really hate how fragile I am.
Edit: "meowing expectantly" has turned into breaking in and hiding under the bed. Christ. :(