So much can come out of being alone. You can't know this until you've been alone for a long, long, long time. Long enough to ache and crack and wrap your arms around yourself and barely stop yourself for reaching for someone you know definitively won't fill the void. Long enough for a sudden panic to envelope you when your friend and her whatever are together enclosed in a room, for confused rage and panic to seem the obvious feeling to fill your personless room. It isn't something that tips you into insanity, not when you've still got friends. But it curls around you insidiously, like shrinking walls or a stifled scream. And only if you're so fundamentally lonely can you know this feeling.
Years from now, there will be some point in which I am not lonely, and I will know that I've experienced what it's like to be there, absolutely. It will be a road I know, another proud notch in the belt.
2 comments:
When I was alone, I really enjoyed time by myself. Too many social situations or obligations made me crave getting back My Time again. Now, having a boyfriend I am with nearly every night, those nights that he doesn't stay here feel incredibly lonely... as if I'm being rejected (when instead it's homework duties). When we first started dating, I'd let him know that we can hang out tonight, but we need to return to our respective homes because I just need to be alone. I needed my space.
But now, it's weird that being less alone has made me feel more lonely when I am forced into My Time. I don't know what to do with myself.
Interesting how that works. I wonder whether I'd be clingy or need space; I've never been in that position.
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