I don’t like being lonely. I don’t like feeling the pain of walking down the street and feeling like something is missing. Because, there’s a pain which loneliness bears which differs to anything else. It’s haunting, and it’s addicting, and its dark fog rolls over you until it’s all that your senses can comprehend.
The thing about loneliness is that it is not just absence, but a constant reminder of that it’s just you, and only you: it’s the ongoing process of sitting alone; eating alone and sleeping alone. It’s waking up in the morning, knowing how the day is going to end before it has even begun. It’s feeling happier in your dreams than in reality. It’s feeling disconnected from everything, and everyone, even when they’re trying to hold your hand.
Because, most of the time, I’m able to fight those dragons. I’m able to outrun those dark clouds. I’m able to breathe. But sometimes, you get tired. Sometimes you know that even the strongest warrior cannot win all of his battles. Sometimes even he has to sleep.
Sometimes you need to surrender, not as an act of cowardliness, but as the active choice to know that this is not the easy option and that things will get better if you just let them.
If you just endure a few more unending nights. If you just get up, and just keep pushing through those clouds.
I will get through this.