I am lying in bed, alone.
If you did not know better, you might see in that statement only the warm embrace of soft bedding and blankets. But that could not be further from the truth.
This should be so familiar by now, but I can’t make my peace with it. How is it possible to be so alone? The kind rooted so deep inside you you’re scared to touch it, lest you never find your way back.
Life did not happen the way I expected. The way I hoped. I never became the person I wanted to be. I never had love the way I imagined it. The world was always so much more harshly mundane than my dreams.
I do not dream so much anymore. I became colder. I became harder. I became sadder. But there is still an ember of hope, in the suffocating isolating silence, that maybe it doesn’t end this way.
I know I’m not the only one. I know so many souls search here because they hurt. Who also need an end to the alone, and find the closest they can be lies in complete surrender to another.
If you still hope too, send me a message. Maybe we’ll burn brighter together.
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- 6 months ago
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