Whispers From The Dark

Lonely

I haven't been writing for so long and honestly I really missed this. It's like picking up freshly scented flowers after a light drizzle in spring. But today I think I'm writing because of something different; something that has built up until this moment, and it happens I realized yet again that this space was never really going to disappear from my life altogether.

There would be times when life would be so bitter and unyielding that even spilling on ink doesn't help, and there would be other times when my therapy session would just need a quiet room and some sheets and pencil. This isn't one of those times however, and it's even more difficult right now because like other times I feel I have unintentionally (yet again) estranged myself from the rest world. Talking has never been something I disliked too much, or liked too much either, but these days, I feel like I'm endlessly going in this well built high up circles that keeps me spinning so.

I desire to have a conversation, yet all who I'd had acquaintance with are somehow a little distant... I feel as though I'm Crusoe on his lone ship, sailing solo into the wide blue beyond. But lately, this voyage of mine has me feeling alone and lonely, and I don't think it's going to stop feeling this way.

Today, I had one of the best days I could ask for, but somehow I feel... not that much. It's almost as if something gets stolen each single time I get a happy emotion coming, and suddenly, I'm left hollow, just another soul going through another ordinary day.

But I think I know what it is I feel. I think although Crusoe might welcome this solo journey, there's another he wished more would go along with him. Another soul with him; a companion for good times and bad times.

And if there might ever be a wreck, it wouldn't be that he was alone and lonely.