As long as I have remembered I have always been alone. I convinced myself that i was just too different and I prefered it this way, in my solitude, with nobody to hurt me.
Days spent alone in my darkened bedroom with nothing but my self deprecating thoughts and the dim light of my cell phone to keep me company.
I was alone, but I told myself I wasn't lonely, i liked it this way. But it became too hard to ignore the hollow ache that resided deep in my chest.
I grew, and things changed. I found a small group, other lonley people. But can one ever truly connect again after being alone so long?
I sit here now, finally ready to accept that maybe I didn't prefer it that way, maybe I didn't want to be alone. I just wanted someone who could understand me, the me that's stuffed deep inside my empty chest cavity.
Sometimes acceptance is too late.
