I met a surfer dude today. I could tell from the minute he opened his mouth he had little to offer the world. A quick query into his story confirmed this. Purposeless. Jobless. Careless. But a trust fund baby, so well off and well fit regardless.
  Then I compared him to me-- intelligent. Passionate. Driven. And for all that, nothing to show for my efforts except disappointment.
  Then his girlfriend walked in. The two of them kissed and held each other, causing a deep unsettling in my unconscious mind.
  Herein lies the rub: as he drifts through life without direction he is happy. Happy with her, happy with their companionship, and warm in ways I have never been.
  What has ambition ever gotten me? What has the word "try" or "duty" ever laid on me except hardship and heartache? For 10 years I have been so obsessed with doing what I must, I haven't ever considered the possibility of doing what I want. In the final reckoning neither of us has made an impact. The difference is he is happy and I am not. Instead I am inconsolably lonely.