My eyes flutter open as dim sunlight filters in my bedroom. No blaring alarm needed - I've trained my body to jolt awake at 7am out of sheer repetition.

I stare at the bumps and divots in the ceiling plaster. Another day, another solo waking up. My phone rests silent as ever on the nightstand. Not like I expected anything different. With a sigh, I hoist myself upright.

The chill of the hardwood floor bites my feet as I shuffle to my laptop. The login screen glows, casting away the morning shadows. Inbox empty, like always. My only notifications come from game updates and coupon apps these days.

I go through the motions of getting ready. Brush teeth, wash face, get dressed. Each mechanical task just passes time until I can dive back into the virtual realm. I pour a bowl of cereal, but the bites taste like cardboard in my mouth.

I boot up my computer, eager to ignore the real world for a few hours. I used to question if I was missing out by spending my life gaming. But real-life parties and forced socializing just magnify how I don't fit in. Here, I can be a hero, gain renown...things that never happen out there.

I conquer dungeons and collect loot, hyperfocused. When my rumbling stomach interrupts me, I begrudgingly slap together a sandwich, eating it in silence. Having nobody to share meals with used to depress me, but now it's just my norm. I tell myself other people just bring drama.

As dusk falls outside, I settle back into the glow of my computer screen. My avatar connects me to people better than my awkward real self ever could. We adventure together, build camaraderie, even find romance. The hours blur by.

Around midnight, exhaustion forces me to stop. Laying in the dark, I feel a flicker of my old sadness. Will anything ever change? I try to take comfort knowing a new game is coming. At least there I have purpose. With that thought drifting through my mind, I finally fall asleep.

The next morning, I'm rattled from my usual routine by the realization that my fridge is nearly empty. If I want to eat anything besides ramen this week, I need to venture out to the grocery store.

After psyching myself up, I walk to the nearby market under the harsh fluorescent lights. I keep my head down as I wind through the aisles grabbing essentials. Milk, bread, peanut butter - the classics. I make sure to go at an off-time to avoid crowds.

As I'm grabbing a cereal box, a flash of long brown hair catches my eye down the aisle. It's a girl around my age wearing a colorful sundress, seemingly out of place in this dingy store.

Something about her seems oddly familiar, though I'm sure I don't actually know her. Our eyes meet for a split second before I quickly avert my gaze. I feel my heart do an involuntary flutter.

Who is she? Where do I possibly know her from? I find myself stealing glances at her as she shops nearby. Some small part of me wants to walk up and say hello, to make a connection with this stranger. But of course, I can't.

My throat tightens and my palms grow sweaty at just the thought of approaching her. I don't have the courage. I'm not the type of person who talks to pretty girls out of the blue. I don't have anything interesting to say anyway.

So instead I just stand there, frozen. I watch her casually stroll away down the aisle and out of sight. In my mind I play out a hundred charming introductions, but I know they'd never translate to real life.

She's gone now and I don't even know her name. A swell of bitterness and regret rises inside as I pay for my groceries in defeat. Why do I even leave my room when all it does is remind me how pitiful I am? This is why it's better to avoid people entirely.

I shuffle home under the gray clouds, feeling more pathetic than ever. Even a simple conversation is beyond me. I am a loner through and through. As I slip back into my computer chair, I wonder if I'm doomed to be nothing more than an observer of life, too afraid to actually participate. With a deep sigh, I lose myself in fantasy worlds again, where I'm not such a coward.