(I think we all saw this one coming)
I didn't think I would ever write about this.
I just thought I would keep it to myself.
But, now, during a difficult time in my life, I'm seeing that this may be one of the more appropriate things I ever write about.
The other night, after spending hours in a coffeeshop with my alone...forever friend, I remember telling them that "we're alone...forever but we're actually not alone."
We're not actually alone.
Meaning, in the solitude that is "being single," there's some company. I often catch myself dwelling on the hours, days and months I spend without someone, without hearing their voice, without knowing them. I lose sight of the value of the hours, days and months I am able to spend with other people. The truth is, when I am with my alone...forever friend (s), I'm disconnected from the pains and worries that complicate my thoughts. My alone...forever friend (s) make me laugh, they bring everything into perspective, they listen to my stories and respond with solutions or sometimes they don't, sometimes it's just empathy, but they're there, when oftentimes you're not.
I am alone...forever but I don't see myself as lonely as I used to be. I've allowed myself to be more honest with the people around me, I've opened up to my alone...forever friends about my fears of loneliness, heartbreak and loss. As a result, they've done the same in return and we've been able to (sappily) learn from each other. Of course, learning doesn't always mean change. We still make the same mistakes. We still text when we know we shouldn't. We still make trips when we know they won't end well and we still wake up every morning with a hope that maybe things will be different for one of us.
If I truly felt like I was in this alone, my head might explode. I know someday, somewhere, I might actually be alone...forever...with no one to joke around with, no one to listen to me whine and complain. But for now, I'll bask in my alone...forever friendships. I'll build up my self-esteem through our alone...forever sighs, our "why does this happen to me?" screams, and the nights when everything, for once, doesn't matter. The nights when we're okay being alone...forever because we (I might've stolen this from an episode of Barney or something) have each other, like two halves of a Belgian waffle (that reference is gonna go over so many people's heads, but that was a shoutout to my alone..forever friend who likes to split Belgian waffles after late night outings).
