My reality.
It seems like my writing is very sad, down, blue, and depressing most of the time.
But I can’t help it.
I always seem to be accompanied and surrounded by loneliness.
I try to be there to help, uplift, and support those around me and my words seem to sometimes get the best of me.
How can I help those who don’t want to be helped?
Why do I keep trying?
Do I better myself and leave everyone else behind?
Can I even be there for myself?
These are the thoughts that fill my mind most nights.
No one knows but I left my own space because the loneliness and darkness seemed to have consumed it. My happiness became memories and they lived in the things around me. I was hopeful that getting close to my friends and family would help cure those things and my happiness would be fueled again.
No matter what I say or do - loneliness follows me.
It creeps in between the lips of me and lovers. It hugs me more than any person. It lays with me in bed. It accompanies me when I'm out walking.
All I ever want is to be a good daughter, friend, sister, and overall human, but it’s not enough.
I’m not sure anyone realizes how hard I try. I know I fail and these days more often. It pains me. I just want to be acknowledged and understood. For someone who’s needed by many, silly how I am still invisible.
I’ve chased all of the outcomes. Tried spiritual awakenings, traveled, read books, and listened to others’ experiences, and it’s brought me here.
I don’t consider loneliness a demon anymore. I believe it’s my only friend.
Loneliness sees me in every window and every mirror.
Loneliness has taught me I am enough.
