People are People are People

Loneliness

Loneliness is a four walled room created entirely of glass with the intention of transparency. It's a taunt imposed by half self isolation yet complete alienation, acres of hesitance and what ifs stretch as far as the eye can see and they stay there, crystals hung in the sky like a school project mockery of the constellations. It's a jail house rock, a window between you and the rest of the world-- because the rules are unstated but they are upheld with thoughtless reverence, you can communicate but you just can't get close. There's no such thing as intimacy when you're dancing a foxtrot with trust issues and self-loathing, because how do you reach up despite the great divide blindfolded against all odds when common sense validates the fact that you'll only end up falling. Don't let go. Don't let go. Don't let go.

So you don't.

At least, not anymore. Because there was a time when you were on the ledge, and you reached up and a hand grasped your own. Along the way, you met its twin as those hands worked in tandem to push you back over again. So there you are, more shadow than ghost because being a ghost insinuates you have unfinished business or lived a life at all.

No, you are shadow sweeping away dust rather than collecting the laughter of friends like the bubbles you blew into the air in the summertime, watching as they floated away with pleased smile. You the shadow peaceably reading and sipping green tea as you read a cliche young adult novel and ignore the lifetimes fluttering around you, living flames.

You are eternal in your loneliness.

You are untouched snow.

You are carefully constructed characters as you adopt the characteristics of those you're most around, and your favorite companions are books.

It's not always bad.

And you are not always... actually alone.

More days than not, you are not by definition alone. You know you are not alone. It's impossible to be alone, you convince yourself, because you are laughing. You are smiling. You are there, and tangible, and you can reach across the great divide and touch, and you feel whole. You are whole, you are there and so alive.

There is something else there, though, so alive. It coaxes thoughts to the forefronts of your mind, and sooner rather than later, you start to give in. Out of fair play, you sit back to show that... thing, how very wrong it is. However, as your silence grows, you realize your companions don't notice. Or don't care. Or hesitate, too, to reach out across the great divide. The shadows slither across your skin, whispering that you've reached across heights unfounded so many times before, you'd do it for them anyway. No. They truly don't care. You settle back, becoming comfortable again, in your transparent box of solemness.

And in your absence, you can see it.

The way they would reorder their worlds without you in it. How the bonds you once shared with them would weaken, and dull, and then be cut away after a time. Their own bonds growing stronger.

You can see a world without you in it. Most of it wouldn't even notice if you simply... disappeared. The rest would simply grow numb to your once existence with time. You can see it.

Suddenly, loneliness is not what it was before. It has taken a turn, you have suddenly lost a battle you had not realized you should've wanted to win.

Not until it was too late.