An Open Letter to My Loneliness

Dear Loneliness,

It’s me. But you know that because we have been acquainted for quite some time.

I just wanted to get a few “thank yous” out of the way before I get real. Thank you for always being with me! You are my most constant companion, which is pretty funny considering you are what you are. Thank you for always being there for me, anytime, anyplace! Seriously, only you can make me feel empty and isolated even when surrounded by friends, even when supposedly having a good time, and especially when I’m down. Thank you for being genuinely concerned about my future! Just when I’ve forgotten that I’m almost 20 years old and have never had a boyfriend, and finally managed to obliterate the idea that I will die alone, you know just what to say to get me back.

Everything you do is just for me, which is so nice. I really appreciate the way that you make me question whether anyone truly wants me around. I so enjoy that funny little thing you do where you trap me inside my own head and heart for days on end, only letting me out to feed on contentedness a few times a week. Who knew Stockholm syndrome could be so much fun! I think it’s so great that we’ve gotten to know each other so well over the years. Remember when we didn’t know each other at all? Now I can’t imagine living without you! We’ve really bonded; I’d say we’re inseparable.

After a long day of pretending I don’t actually believe that all my friends only tolerate me out of some sort of sick pity, of pretending that my heart doesn’t feel like it’s being pushed down further and further into my body, of pretending like you aren’t there documenting my every move and thought, it feels so great to crawl in to bed with you so you can rock me to sleep with your loathsome lullabies. Hush little baby, you are alone, hush little baby, you’re on your own.

Dear Loneliness, just because we’ve been together for so long, doesn’t mean it’s going to last forever. I can’t do it now, but expect that one day I’m going to wake up and tell you to get lost. I’m not just going to turn the tables, I’m going to flip the table, I’m going to chop the table up into firewood, and I’m going to look you dead in the eyes and tell you that you’re on your own. But, today isn’t that day. Tomorrow might not be either. For now, let’s continue to get coffee, let’s continue to watch happy couples stroll by, continue to sink deeper into the earth at the sound of friendship and laughter. I hope you enjoy whatever time is left with me, because you’ve been warned. One day, I will no longer need you, and you, my Loneliness, will find yourself alone.

Yours truly,

Claire