I have always felt alone. No matter how many friends and family i surround myself with, at the end of the day, when i close my eyes, i feel the loneliness. It feels like a sickness that never left my system. There is no cure, only relief from pain that never really last.
There is this missing piece that forms a hollow in my chest. I know that it can only be filled up by people but there seem to be no one in this world who would fit in. I also know that I can go on searching yet never find that anything that would satiate this void.
A hopeless case.
For a long time, i have questioned my fate. Questioned it as if getting the answers would change it. In all my efforts, i have come to the realization that there needs no reason nor purpose for my predicament.
Loneliness is really just a part of who i am, perhaps of everyone. It is no more rare than happiness, or sadness or anger or hope. It cannot be cured for it is not an ailment.
Maybe it is simply that i am more sensitive to it than any other emotions. Maybe it is my default disposition.
Most days, it is like an old familiar sound that constantly plays in the background of my life. But there are days when it seems to scream from my insides. No one hears it but me. Even sleep can barely keep it at bay.
This kind days come more often now. Perhaps i've grown too old to fend it off. Too tired to feel otherwise.
Maybe that is it. I am just too tired.
Of it all.
There is this missing piece that forms a hollow in my chest. I know that it can only be filled up by people but there seem to be no one in this world who would fit in. I also know that I can go on searching yet never find that anything that would satiate this void.
A hopeless case.
For a long time, i have questioned my fate. Questioned it as if getting the answers would change it. In all my efforts, i have come to the realization that there needs no reason nor purpose for my predicament.
Loneliness is really just a part of who i am, perhaps of everyone. It is no more rare than happiness, or sadness or anger or hope. It cannot be cured for it is not an ailment.
Maybe it is simply that i am more sensitive to it than any other emotions. Maybe it is my default disposition.
Most days, it is like an old familiar sound that constantly plays in the background of my life. But there are days when it seems to scream from my insides. No one hears it but me. Even sleep can barely keep it at bay.
This kind days come more often now. Perhaps i've grown too old to fend it off. Too tired to feel otherwise.
Maybe that is it. I am just too tired.
Of it all.
Comments
Post a Comment