I have titled a blog "Only the Lonely" twice, yet I've never published a post. Maybe it's because it is painful to talk about my loneliness. Yet it exists.
It feels like my life is filled up of these small moments with multiple people. People that may or may not know or give a shit about the real me. They each take a small piece of me for their own use (and I give it up readily) then return to their own lives. Meanwhile, I go home to my cold, lonely house that with the exception of two cats, is devoid of any warm-blooded creature to interact with.
As I lie in bed right before falling asleep, I try to remember what it felt like to have someone next to me. Hearing someone else's breath (or snoring), sensing their warmth or settling into the occasional arm wrapped around me. Just having the knowledge of their presence is a comfort I never understood until I went without it.
I can go out to eat, go to a party and do almost anything alone. I did it for 10 years. But to fall asleep, completely alone, in the center of my queen size bed is some days too much to stomach.
I hurt for you. Stay strong. An empty bed is better than one with the wrong person in it. I know that's no consolation when you're there alone, but...:(
ReplyDeleteWOW. Thanks for saying that. You are absolutely right. I can't tell you the number of times I felt lonely even when someone was right there beside me. This IS better. I knew there was a reason I liked you. You're pretty smart. :)
ReplyDelete