Hmm. It's been a while since I was here. I don't know quite how I got back, one minute we were talking and he was here and I was there, and we were dancing in the wet and I was hot. Hot all over. Hot everywhere. It seemed into my every bone every muscle every blood vessel every atom every molecule. Each time was the same.
But now I'm here. And he's not there anymore.
I was trying to think of a befitting quote for today, I don't think I've ever struggled so hard. Propane, propene, methane, ethene. Hydrocarbons, all made of two singular elements. They bond together, clinging to each other for survival. No one bonds to me. I am a lone hydrogen atom flailing and floating in the distance, long since abandoned and neglected. I am colourless, invisible, microscopic.
Isn't it strange how much we know of this world, yet there's so many of us that know so little about themselves. I can't begin to comprehend the millions of people that identify with the word lonely.
You can't.
It's quite scary living alone in this world. No I don't mean literally, though that in itself is quite terrifying to, no what I mean is the kind of lonely where you're unperceived. Never noticed. Where you could have 4, 5, 6, 100, 2361 friends, yet the sound of isolation still rings loud and clear in your mind, blurring your sight.
Never quite having that someone that would understand you the same way you'd understand them.
It brings tears to my eyes.
Lonely is inescapable. Lonely worms her way into your heart before you've realised it, and leaves you broken and secluded, armed with a heavy heart and mind. Lonely holds your hand everyday. Lonely sits next to you on the bus. The train. She clings on as you rev your bike, only dreaming of reaching an end to this inescapable nightmare, and as you ride off driving far away, only to find yourself back into her arms. Lonely cares for you like no one else has ever cared for you before. She stays by your side no matter the situation, always right there waiting for you, smiling for you, laughing for you, shaking hands for you, writing for you, eating for you, typing for you, dancing for you. At the end of the night when they all drive away, jovial and bright, Lonely sits by your side. Lonely holds your head as you scroll through social media, staring blankly at the screen. Lonely likes the post on Instagram. They're smiling. He is smiling much brighter than the way he smiles at you. Smiled at you. Is it real? You've forgotten what a real smile feels like. You ponder over this as Lonely lifts your arms, and strips you, walking you to the bathroom into a tub that she's already run for you, thank you, and washes away the days lies and frays. Lonely dries you off and tucks you in; she strokes your hair as you cry yourself to sleep that night, as you will many more, and holds you tight as you lie there emotionless and still, her cold arms wrapping around your mind, your head, your heart.
Lonely loves you. Lonely loves me too.
