The echo chamber of the long watch

Dear Delyara, It is 5:08 AM, and the loneliness of this massive, empty corporate facility is so heavy it feels like a physical pressure behind my eyes. I have walked these sterile corridors for eleven hours now, the only sound being the rhythmic, mechanical click of my boots on the polished concrete. There are millions of pounds of wealth secured within these walls, yet there isn't a single spark of human warmth. I am spending the best years of my youth protecting the comfort and security of strangers, while my own heart is left to starve in the dark, entirely cut off from the world. It is a cruel irony that the more secure I make these buildings, the more isolated I become within them.