Sometimes I am alone. My life feels to be in the middle of nowhere. I have been known to isolate myself, by my actions and my words.
For me, loneliness no longer holds the intense fear that it once did.
Loneliness is female. She is female because at times she is happy to linger in the background and watch my life move past her. Sometimes she is so loud that I have to put both of my hands over my ears with the hope of reducing her ear-bleeding scream. Sometimes she is so strong that I alone can exist in her presence.
I know her boundaries. I have mapped her highs and lows. I know how she feels. I know what she likes and what she does not.
I have not lost the capacity to feel lonely, I fear loosing that. If I lost the capacity to feel loneliness I would fear that I had lost the capacity to feel. At times, when I have feared that I would never feel anything again I rejoiced in the visits from loneliness. Loneliness has been my friend, my lover and my sworn enemy at different times.