Before this thing people call anhedonia, I remember love felt like a bubbly feeling, like you had an internal compass made not of magnets but of your sweetest memories and an undying interest to form more, and it always pointed to the ones I loved. Remnants of that died once and for all with my mum recently (who I loved even during anhedonia) and that caused every remaining relationship to collapse. Today I feel like I’m surrounded by NPC’s, and sadly not the kind who’ll say they want to be a Blitzball when they grow up.