Nauseatingly Lonely

Tim stepped off the bus that feeling in his gut became stronger, like something was holding his insides and was stopping them from moving like they should, like they were being kept tense waiting for something to tell them they should relax or were forcibly kept limp, these limp and tense organs were wrapped up inside him into a knot, that was everywhere inside of him in his gut behind his ribcage towards somewhere low in his throat blocking the words he had no one to speak to. The grip on his insides held on as he peddled his bike home and up the driveway towards the manor. He parked his bike, didn’t bother opening the garage but left it outside, not in view of the security cameras.Or a look into Tim Drake's lonely childhoodWhat do you mean I'm projecting?