Calculating loneliness

It's all so different these days.

I don't know why I stopped writing last year... Or I do know, it's just a little complicated. I wrote a blog post about the changes I went through, after that I needed to do some mental work and thought quite a lot about myself as a person, about other people and their views on life, of life and what I've made it out to be. I deleted that blog post; I don't think it's allowed to be public. But I've got it saved in the hidden files of my computer, maybe for future reference, maybe for myself to be able to see how far I've progressed after that initial realization. Anyway, this is pretty cryptic but maybe it offers some kind of explanation as to why I left this blog hanging.

I lost a good friend. Nah, I've been losing her for the longest time, but god it hurt. God it hurt so much, especially since I know I couldn't have done anything differently. I just wasn't enough.

I'm still a dreamer, that much hasn't changed. These days I dream about love, about so much love, about casual love, about love larger than me and you and the Sun and the sky and the entirety of the universe. It's a bit of a big topic to think about. Kinda ambitious. But. It's now missing from my life, after her, the biggest thing missing. As dramatic as it is, it's the source of my pain, because life after love is pretty damn dull. I'm craving for it, that same connection and attachment. Jesus christ, I even created a Tinder profile even though I don't like getting to know people through social media. That's how fucking desperate I am, lmao! I haven't deleted that crap even if I never use it because it still feels nice to sometimes get notifications that someone has liked me. I've gotten over 5000 likes!!! (Okay, sorry, I'm boasting at this point.) But like, do you not understand me, it feels kind of nice that someone likes my pictures even if they're just a couple of pics in which I look better than I actually do! It's just a nice lie. I like to stay in it. Anyway, I'm kinda old-fashioned, too much to seriously use the app. I'd wanna get to know someone in person. I want to know their vibes, wanna see their smile, their eyes, their... back... I really like men's backs... They're so... Big... Wide... Huggable... STOP

Men's... backs...

Okay, you see? This is the person I've become. School stress and loneliness have probably turned me brain dead and created an entity only capable of thinking about mushy, easy, feel-good things. Simple things. Like men's backs. They're easy to comprehend, they don't require brain activity. You can enjoy a nice back without really having to engage in things that need some kind of work. Just enjoy a back from afar. Dream of hugging it. That's all, it's easy, feel-good, a nice back. It's like an escape into a world made out of clouds and rays of sunshine, there's nothing difficult, just backs to appreciate.

No, but to be serious here, things have changed and they still do. Life is waltz. By this, I don't mean it's as easy as taking waltz steps on a polished dance floor, I don't mean it's as simple as dancing through life with a smile on your face; I mean, it goes in circles. I've done a slow, full 360, I'm back to who I used to be a long time ago. Most people seem to think that change is always good, that it's important to keep evolving and growing and changing and improving all the time, all the time. That it's necessary to reinvent you as a person every now and then. I do agree, to an extent, but sometimes the change is rushed, or maybe unwanted, or maybe it leads to no good. Sometimes you find yourself thinking "no, this isn't who I want to be, this isn't making me happy", and all of the sudden you're back to the starting point. Sometimes it's a good thing. Sometimes it's alright not to reinvent yourself; sometimes it's fine to waltz and to go in circles and to keep moving and twisting and turning, going left and right in search of the true you. You'll find it, eventually. I've finally found my place in everything, like in that Nine Inch Nails song. (Actually, another line works really well, too. "I'm becoming something else: you". Sometimes that's the case, you try to impersonate something or someone you're not, it's no good.)

I'm looking outside the window now. The sky looks like a dark, moldy peach. Everything is covered in fog.

I'm pretty lonely these days, without her. I like some parts of it; I can be myself, I can watch romantic things and cry and giggle and dream about love as much as I want, read books or play the piano or draw or paint or study or cry a little more and no one is there to complain, to judge, to laugh, to look down on me. The thing with people is that they can make you so, so happy, but also so, so sad, or angry, or immensely frustrated. They invoke feelings larger than those you create being by yourself, for better for worse.

But it doesn't mean I'm not sad I'm lonely.

It's something that has always been a part of me. I can remember being as young as nine, walking home from school, finding a certain little emptiness inside of me, certain little melancholy deep down in the bottom of my heart. I've never really, really, really had someone, someone who's there, someone who cares as much as I do, someone who'd accept this little shit, someone I could love with my pathetic little heart, who'd laugh at my mishaps and like this little mess, this small little person who loves so much and so often but is so silly, so lonely, so apt to failing. How? When? When will I not be lonely? In a crowd, one-on-one, it's all the same, no one never really reaches out, everyone speaks, says so many things, I'm tired of words. They lie. So much. Actions speak a language louder than any sugar-coated, sweet words. I look at the stars. They're far away, far away from me but also far away from each other. They're relatable; there are so many of them, but they're all lonely, all alone.

Loneliness does kill. I think it's the biggest, most painful thing wrong with our society these days: so many people are fucking lonely. I just read an article about people who are lonely no matter what, who are lonely in the company of others, lonely alone, lonely not alone, it doesn't make a difference. It's chronic loneliness. It's not very common, but it does happen all the same. Don't you think it's ironic; I'm not alone with my loneliness! The article said the people experiencing this phenomenon are usually intelligent and empathetic. I'd feel arrogant thinking I'm somehow intelligent, but I know I do think a lot, all the time. My mind goes places, it questions and wonders and explores. It doesn't matter too much, though. What matters is that I'm lonely, so goddamn lonely, I've always been lonely, as a child, as a teen, even now. Why? Why am I not able to connect? Why do I care so much, too much? Why can't I speak my mind, tell others to stop using me, stop using me as a tool for releasing their pressure and anger, as a fucking stress ball, as someone to ease their pain with? Why do I avoid conflict so much??

In case you're wondering, I'm not being sad, frustrated, angsty, angry or depressed while writing this - I'm just honestly wondering it. Why do I avoid conflict so much? If I knew how to speak my mind, would I not be this lonely? And why the hell am I this lonely? Like, I have so many good, amazing people in my life, they deserve to be appreciated and thought of as enough. I can't give you any answers, I can't tell you why there's this deeply-rooted loneliness at the core of what defines me, I think, 'cause I can't remember not being lonely. But! Worry not! I'm still pretty happy. The quality of my life is satisfying. I'm satisfied. Honestly, I don't know if I'll ever not be lonely. So I'm happy with what I have, I'm happy everyday. The fact I feel such deep, chronic loneliness is honestly a little disappointing but doesn't make my life miserable. I enjoy and love it nonetheless. Maybe someday I'll find someone I'll be able to connect with in a deeper, more meaningful level.

I need to be patient. Someday someone will certainly enter my life. Someone who actually sees me - who I can love. That person won't be perfect (I sure as hell am not!), we'll argue and fight and I'll cry a lot and he'll hurt me and be mean at times and we'll yell sometimes and sometimes I'll bake a cake and someday I'll hurt him and someday I might want to hurt him but it'll still work out because I'll love him and he'll love me back and we'll just have to make do. We'll have to work it out. Nothing functions just by letting it be - it needs work! The bottom line is that he's there, with all his faults and mistakes and problems and imperfections.

I honestly don't know if this makes any fucking sense to anyone. Actually, I can't explain it. It just is and exists, my pathetic loneliness that makes me cry in the shower, makes me dread the day my parents die, makes me feel a weird melancholy pretty much all the time. And I swear to god it's not just some need for romance, not some wish to feel pretty and wanted; it wouldn't have to be romantic! I'd just love to not feel lonely all the time. (it would just be nice to involve some physical stuff in it too, because I crave touching as well. I don't hug anyone, not any family member, not my friends either, really. I'm smiling at the idea of having someone, someone I could hug whenever I felt like it, someone who'd pat my head.) The catch is that even with that I'm still so goddamn happy, so content with life, so satisfied. The loneliness is there like a little black hole, but instead of sucking all the good parts of my life inside of its vacuum it's kept in a small container. It exists, it's negative, but it doesn't rip the good parts out of my life. They exist together.

The name of my blog is Brb dreaming. You want to know what's my biggest dream?

It's to not be lonely.

Maybe one day I'll find a home in someone.