I don't know what to write anymore. Something will come to me, I know it. But for now, being alone and the realities that come with it, aren't so scary anymore. The people in my life seem happy and the people I love/loved seem content. And besides my own happiness, that's all that matters.
I don't think there's any cure for the lonely soul. I'm still (happily) alone...forever. Saying "I don't mind it" is stupid, love and loving are great but only when the time is right. There may not be a cure, but I do believe that there are remedies a person can do to help overcome whatever state of forgotten they may feel. At least, I've realized my own agency. I'm aware of my loneliness but I'm also aware that there's no reason to fear being alone.
As for this, I can only offer up what I know and what I've learned. As of now, I've learned that being alone...forever has allowed me to learn more about myself and who I am as a lonely human being. A good friend once recommended that when alone, not to focus on who doesn't love me, but who does. Recall the things you love and why you love them. And I think that's it. I think that's what has made this easy. I think that's why I can't write anymore, because I'm no longer infatuated with this idea of overcoming my loneliness. Instead, my heart resides elsewhere, in the million different places, things and people I chose to love.
(and here I go...)
I love everyone that I've loved. I love writing that word out. I love learning, keeping my mind stimulated and hoping. I love reading goofy and serious blogs. Listening to Radiolab when I'm alone. I love talking to my good alone...forever friend about her day and listening to her stories, whether serious or gossip-y. I love missing people and realizing their okay. I love knowing. How you are and how you've been. I enjoy dancing but don't love when people can't dance with me. I love drinking; Franzia with my parents and whiskey with my friends. I love the cities I've lived in and the places that have held me. I love the gym, my yoga pants and the Calvin Harris Pandora station I pump iron to. I love knowing I'm okay and that things may or may not work out right away. I love that I can't get enough of openly pouring my heart out over the Internet. And I'm okay with that. I'm truly okay.
Happy Sunday, folks.
