And then all of the sudden, it hits me that I’ve become isolated, that I’m separated some unbelievable distance from everyone that I know, from every familiar place. I realize that no one in this whole wide world loves me anymore, no one will talk to me, that I’ve become the kind of person that no one even wants to remember. I could just disappear and no one would even notice.

Haruki Murakami, Concerning the Sound of a Train Whistle in the Night