I turn around. I start heading back along the dismantled track. It's ironic really, how venturing down something so physically broken can help me mentally piece myself together.
I assume it will take me another three hours or so to get home, but the track runs straight to the end of my road, so there's no way I can get lost. What felt like a lonely, cold, sombre journey...now feels like a freeing, comforting path, leading the new me back to a society I am now ready to face.
I feel happier now, contented, repaired.
I return home, with a rare smile upon my face, feeling content with myself for the first time in forever. I rip down the posters of popular bands and film stars I had on my wall to satisfy the ever-still society, and I throw a bundle of clothes I bought to 'fit in', out of my window into the compost heap in the garden below.
Today marks the start of a new me. Accepted by me, and even if it stay like that for some time - forever even - at least I know who 'me' is. Unlike those mass-produced clones making up the shattered dream we call society.