The skies have darkened for me a long time ago. In a place where the city lights not only seem distant but also seem impossible to reach. Yet, the stars won't shine.
I'm just surrounded by the highest trees in the middle of these woods. Surrounded by the most mysterious sounds that I can't define where they're coming from, while my heart freezes of how frightening the whole scenario looks combined. No wonder I barely manage to sleep at night...
And I try to search for a friendly face in a darkness I can't explain, but no one's around. No one is ever around. And the sun doesn't comes up. This night is never ending.
Just like the loneliness that's been eating me alive for years now.
I've lost myself, and I've never managed to find me again.
To be alone with no one to hold you in their arms, or no one to wipe your tears before they fall to the ground, is a hard reality to face. To look the depth of this emptiness with our eyes straight into it is something that has no understandable explanation.
All these years I've been trying to catch other's hands so I could hold them as much as my strengths would let me. And it has always been useless. No one has stayed. And I try again and again to hold them for a couple more seconds just in case a second thought hits their mind, just in case a doubt settles in. I think it's safe to say it hasn't worked...
I've been constantly making a fool out of myself just so these people passing by won't leave. But they always do.
And somehow, in this very exact moment, I look around and I can breathe quietly. I'm alone, yes, but somehow I'm not hyperventilating. I remember where a single sigh would be as painful as a knife, and thinking that each breath needed to be the last because of its agonizing pain. I still relate to all of that. It's a colorless and empty world to live...
But I think I might have conformed myself with these lonely walls being the only ones to comfort me.
I used to love being alone. And it honestly became my worse nightmare. However, now, in the middle of the night, I look around, with no one to count on, and I actually accept that I have nothing but myself. I have no one but myself.
I've come to terms that the ones I'd try to call "friend" over and over again, the ones I so much tried to rely on, are nothing but illusions in the reality I face each day. And it's okay. It's almost like a weight out of my chest now instead of the burden I've carried with such devotion for what it felt like eternity. Because I've come to terms that there's nothing I can do to make them stand by my side, and to not have the weight of feeling the constant need of going after them, and putting every single effort and energy on making them stay and be here, really feels like suddenly dropping the weight of a world behind I'd always carry on my back.
It's not that I like loneliness now. It's not that I stopped feeling like I could use a friend. Nothing of that changed. But for a second, it does not feel like the end of the world. And all I can hope is that this second can last a long ass time!