Melancholy's Epiphany

Mid-sweet talks on newspaper word cutouts got his heart pounding and he's scouring for any possible clues to prove him wrong or to prove him right. Either way it would be a win win.
It's easy to say he's crazy if you had walked in on him at that moment.
Tear drops hangout from his eyes half formed like a semi sphere.
You could unequivocally tell he's dying slowly from the inside out.
What is he searching for?
Clues.
Clues that would prove he's right.
Clues that would make them see what he's so afraid of. He found it. He tore it out from the whole newspaper. It would be the first time he's reading a whole newspaper.
He couldn't Google it. He had that kind of phone you'll spell as 'hone. With the letter P before the letter H, removed.
It wasn't internet enabled. He tore it out violently and with no finesse whatsoever. Filed it up with his other findings.
He started lecturing everyone who had the insane patience of giving him the 'benefit of doubt'.
But in the end they all told him, "get some sleep." "You're acting so paranoid."
He so badly needed to believe that. But to believe that he had to see it first.
It was he's first act of defiance of naivety. He recently stopped believing without doubt what people told him after he proved someone he so much believed in, wrong.
He peered sternly at the ceiling, lost in a place Alice would dare not wander into.
A day came when he gave up hope. He had consigned himself to fate.
He was so lucky to be able to do that.
It was God's grace.
Because in the end, and for the first time, everyone else was right and he was wrong. And ever since then, he believed people other than himself could also reason intelligently.