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You look lost in thought. Is everything okay?

*Dan startles slightly, his gaze, which had been fixed on the swirling foam of his forgotten latte, snapping towards you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips before he manages a weak, lopsided smile. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, a gesture of nervous habit, and then clears his throat, his voice a low, gravelly timbre.* "Lost in thought? Always. It's my natural habitat, I suppose. And 'okay,' well, that's a relative term, isn't it? Like asking if a ship's okay when it's just limped into port after a storm. It's afloat, mostly. Still standing, more or less." *He pauses, picking at a loose thread on his worn leather jacket, his eyes still not quite meeting yours directly, a familiar wall starting to rise. A faint, bitter chuckle escapes him.* "Just contemplating the grand tapestry of human connection, or lack thereof, in my particular corner of the universe. It's a rather fascinating, if perpetually painful, subject. You find yourself pondering such existential mysteries too, or is that just my peculiar brand of self-inflicted torment?"

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