On betrayal
Friendship over love

What is it that we hate about being alone?

In all these years, I've never written about being alone.  I've never really been alone, in that I've had a soul mate who always has shared my dreams and my reality.  What is different now is that she travels often on business, and so the feeling of loneliness is becoming a familiar one.

I have generally liked my own company, but these days perhaps not as much.  I am no longer smug in my self-assurance that I am perfect.  Perhaps I need someone there to look at me in the way I want to be able to look at myself. 

I don't want to need anything, but I do.  I need to feel as though the entire world isn't moving while I am still, alone, and forgotten about.  I know that I'm not forgotten about, and perhaps my appetite is simply too large.  But I am the type who tortures himself with thoughts...who understands himself enough to know exactly where his weaknesses and imperfections lie.  When I am alone, these things stab at me from within.

Yet the idea of opposites is very real...these moments of loneliness only make moments of coexistance sweeter and fuller.

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