Two Introverts ✔

6 | Lonely

Samuel thought. He was aware of how much things that shouldn't bother him bothered him and was also aware of how he was becoming overly sensitive these days. There were those "good old days" where he had everything under control - his anger, tears, excitement, everything. He was grateful to his parents for having taught him a lot about self control at a very young age. They insisted that it was a necessity in life and would definitely help him once he grew up. And it did. For the longest time, he could see how he was different from the others around him - how others couldn't control themselves at the sight of food, how some people lashed out at others and regretted it and how breaking down in public sort of labeled people as weak.

When Royce was still in school, he'd made a lot of friends. Just in a span of two years, he'd had more friends than Sam ever had in his whole life. Sam could feel himself being jealous at times - Royce was sporty, he was tall, he got along with most of the people and scored fairly well. For the first few weeks, before Royce had almost half the class as his friends, Sam thought he could finally stop feeling lonely and sad and would finally get the right amount of attention he wanted. Slowly, as time went by, even Royce had drifted away. He brought together a big group of friends, the same group that still existed - the one he sat with during lunch - and that made him feel small. He knew he wasn't anything great, he wasn't the best, he wasn't the most good looking and nor was he the most likable, but he still felt the need to have someone by his side. Someone who could tolerate him and understand his weird antics. Since he didn't have his "someone," he felt lonely and unwanted.

Then, time flew, and Royce left. He'd given everyone cards that he'd made on his own, telling everyone how much he appreciated them, and left. Sam had gotten an extra gift, though. Royce had bought him a small blue bag which he still had. Royce had written how he'd miss Sam a lot, how he was so grateful that he wasn't alone and how he'd had an amazing time at school because of Sam and the others. Since there was still another day left for school to end, Sam had spent the whole day prior to that to think of and write something equally as touching to Royce. Even if sometimes, Sam had felt lonely when he was with Royce, he was still his first best friend. He knew Royce thought the same way of him, too. Once they both bid farewell to each other on the last day of school, Sam slipped into his unhappy bubble again.

Through the span of an entire year, he felt unwanted. Unloved. Worthless. Incapable. Undeserving. He didn't know who he was anymore; he was lost inside his head that constantly fed him negative thoughts. It was back to how it was before he met Royce - he didn't have anyone who he could call a friend. He didn't have anyone he could go and cry to, he didn't have anyone who felt happy to see his face, he didn't have anyone who was proud of him.

And then, like an angel, June had come into his life. For some reason, Sam didn't know how, June was so easy to talk to. They both had known each other's names before, they had been in the same class together numerous times, but Sam never thought of talking with the guy. He somehow seemed too mature for his immature and naive ass. But when 8th grade rolled in, the both of them instantly clicked. Sam, being someone who got swayed easily, then called June his best friend.

As he thought, he realized how stupid it was. How could he just move on from person to person and call them his "best friend"? But as he thought more, he realized that June was his best friend. He meant it with all his heart. June was someone who was by his side when he was at his lowest, someone who understood him more than he did himself, and someone who he could always count on. He tried his level best to be the friend June was to him, he really did. He wanted someone to see some worth in him, someone to tell him that they were there for him, someone to call him out when he was being plain stupid. And at the same time, he wanted to do the same for the other person.

The other thing with Sam was, he always helped people without knowing its consequences. Helping people was a good trait - no one in the world deserves to be helpless. But, there lies a fine line between people asking for help and people taking advantage of it. And Sam didn't know where the line was. As time went by, he realized how he was slowly losing himself, how it had come to a point where he didn't know who he was and why he still lived. No, he wasn't suicidal, not in the least, but he didn't know his purpose.

What am I supposed to do?

"Go forward."

Forward? Where? Where is forward?

"You'll see when you learn"

When...will I learn?

Sam was someone who always thought about every minute thing a lot. Maybe it was during the process of completely neglecting himself, because to add to that, he'd also become overly sensitive and emotional. Small things made him cry. The fact that "breaking down in public labels you weak" didn't help, he found himself constantly losing control and breaking down.

Even if June was there, which he always was, Sam still felt lonely. Loneliness wasn't something that one could overcome in a few months or years, it took time - a lot of time. Sam didn't think he was strong enough to see just how long.

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