Solitary, it companies me, carries about with me throughout most of my childhood.
It’s funny that such familiar thing still holds my biggest fear - the loneliness, the sense of emptiness.
Shouldn’t I already grow out of it? The early exposures to a belief where only I myself would stand by my side should make me stronger and tougher. Instead, I am more fragile than ever before, inside.
Loneliness and jealousy were both born from the same womb - the comparison of love received – perhaps, it’s one of the oldest sins.
The loneliest moments aren’t the times that you’re alone at night in the dark; it’s the times you’re among other people, among the uproarious talk and laughter.
Maybe because it reminds you of what you don’t have. I don’t know. I give it a rest.