Sinking is the norm in "my" life. The misalignment between identity and reality squeezed me into an awkward position. So I feel loneliness, enjoy loneliness, and try to find the meaning of my existence from loneliness. However, by coincidence, there was an additional participant in the planned trip alone. I was freed from loneliness and lived a life that I thought was not sinking. The fate of the lonely seems to be to lose everything, even if they never own it.
Concept: the expression of love in existentialism. Is it a concession of subjectivity or a public expression?