The lioness

Loneliness

Being alone has never really bothered me.

I've never really associated being alone with unhappiness. Instead, I've always seen my ability to embrace the state of being or feeling alone as a safety-net because I know that I'm good company. I find solace within myself.

My mind, our minds, are one of the very few uncensored places, free of judge ment left in this world.

But the word 'lonely' gets to me.

We can't really be alone, though. Can we?

I mean, In a way, we are loneliness. And can we be lonely when we are the literal definition of the word?

 I don't know.

I've never really though about it until now.

Most of the time I'm fine, but when the time that we define by 'late at night' strikes, I'm not fine anymore. I get stuck in this sinking feeling of being lonely, and suddenly I'm not good company.

As John Green put it: The thought spiral. I get stuck in it and down I go. At that point I can't stop thinking about how we're all so lonely because we're stuck in our heads with our minds and no one will ever hear whatever goes on inside of them. No one will ever know the emotional abuse so many of us can't escape. I can't stop thinking about how we surround ourselves with people and allow ourselves to pretend that we aren't as lonely as we feel.

At that point, I just want somebody to hold me, to let me pretend that I'm not as lonely as I feel. Someone to hold me tight enough to pull me up, up and out of that godforsaken spiral.

But that's just me, wanting to forget that we aren't lonely, that it is a choice.  But it isn't. Because we are loneliness.

We are our greatest fear.