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I am alone, I am always alone. There were people who came but eventually left..
It’s not that I mind being alone, not really. I can distract myself with silly fantasies and daydreams for hours, but in the end it always comes back to me. That’s what I’m left with: just me. And that’s what scares me more than anything. Me. Sometimes I just can't tell somebody how I really feel , not because I  don't know why, not because  I don't know my purpose, not because I don't trust them but because I can't find the right words for them to understand. And for some point in my life I thought that I am just a shell of the former me.. I lost my will to live, I do not know whether I belong here. I just wanted to disappear. To get so lost that nobody ever found me. To go so far away that I'd never be able to make my way home again.... And so I did.