"The basis of love is built upon two variables: the right place and the right time. Many believe that the odds of love favor the rich and the beautiful. I beg to differ. The odds of love, like every other game, are purely random. Contrary to popular belief, true randomness in nature occurs both in scattered points and simple clusters. If we gather enough data, we might be fortunate enough to find a correlation. However, much like other aspects of life, we cannot perfectly predict the patterns of uncertainty."

I paused, unsure of what to write next. I walked downstairs, opened Dad's liquor cabinet, took out an old bottle of whiskey, and headed back upstairs to my old room.

The moment I imagined myself in a white lab coat was the moment I unknowingly threw my life away. If I could go back to the year I first chuckled at Bill Nye, I would shake that little chuckling bastard for ruining my life.

I have the next two weeks off, and I'm not looking forward to it.

There's nothing I hate more than the holiday season: the non-stop questions about work and health, the uncomfortable small-town parties. Everyone's engaged now, and everyone has an opinion on why I'm not.

After a few drinks, everyone suddenly becomes an expert on love. The same tired pieces of advice, tossed around like an overfilled beach ball, hit me in the face as soon as I mentioned that I'd heard it all before.

I write for advice columns in my free time and gained a bit of a following after my first post. I haven't stopped writing since.

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As the party concluded, I helped pick up some beer cans and threw on a winter coat. I stepped outside and glanced at the warm Christmas lights illuminating the bright faces of young couples, hopeful in their promises of eternal love.

One day, I hope to feel the softness of a woman's skin on my fingertips, the smell of her hair wafting toward me, the sound of easy-going chatter, and her laughter painting over the bleak monochrome of my life with vibrant shades of pink, ivory, and gold.

I want to feel the overflowing abundance of affection in loving a woman, but there is neither light nor abundance in my empty heart.

I stiffly waved goodbye. The sound of cheerful chatter faded behind me as I walked away.

I arrived home and hugged my dad. I allowed Mom a quick peck at my cheek.

Running upstairs to my old room, I closed the door behind me and unlocked my laptop. I replayed the day's events in my head and felt somewhat jilted.

"My world is shrouded in the deep, murky waters of the Pacific. Sometimes, I peek my head out of the water just enough to glance at the world above the sea. Many live in fear of uncertainty, but I find beauty in darkness."

I took a few swigs from the old bottle. The whiskey burned down my throat and sizzled through my stomach. Hiccuping from the alcohol, I wiped my nose with the neck of my T-shirt, accidentally knocking the empty bottle off the table. I placed my fingers back on the keyboard and continued my previous thought,

"Each day is more uncertain than the last, and that's what makes life worth living. Hindsight is 20/20, but my world is shrouded in the depths of the deep, murky waters of the Pacific. Sometimes, I peek my head out of the water just enough to glance at the world above the sea."

I glanced at the bottle on the carpet. Feeling irritated, I pick it up and set it back on my desk.

"Somehow, the light scares me."