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.