Solitarius

Solitarius, unus, solum. All latin with one meaning; alone.
He sits in the dark room, looking through the invisible window in his compartment and sees all the hundreds of panes on other buildings that no longer shine with light. Not even the shadows from the large trees can be seen as the malicious darkness has defeated the day, the light, the hope. Night is in control now, and it revels in power. He is a good person, at least he thinks so. He works out, he eats healthy and he goes to school, thinking that he might get a good job and lots of respect one day. He is constantly worried about other people's feelings. Well, at least he tries to care. He never intentionally hurts anyone's feelings, at least not very often.

He hates to lie, and even if the truth will hurt people, he likes to tell it anyway as it will pay off in the end. To lie makes even his black heart feel guilty. Even though he might be filled with gloom to some point, he does feel he is a decent person who tries to do his best all the time. He isn't ugly, maybe a bit ordinary to some point, but he works hard at keeping himself presentable. He doesn't smoke, drinks only for social reasons when appropriate, and has never touched any illegal drugs. He lives with a passion for life, and laughs like he means it. Often, he smiles when other people smile. He is a prude in public but can shock you in private. Confident yet shy, quiet yet exciting. Passionate yet demure. He really isn't such a bad person, he thinks.

He isn't asking for much. Just someone who thinks he is special. Someone who will put him first. Someone whose face brightens when he enters the room. Someone whose eyes linger when he leaves. Someone who wants him, and only him. Someone who isn't afraid to show it. Someone who will love him as much as he loves them. Is he really asking too much?

He thinks he is a respectable person, and yet he sits in a dark room...
Solitarius.