the five forms of loneliness

the catalyst- da capo

There is never a beginning to anything, is there?

Life is a perpetual cycle, repeating itself over and over again regardless of whatever happens.

Like an broken gramophone stuck on replay, like a dog chasing its own tail, like the hesitant budding of new leaves on a tree stripped bare.

No matter what, life moves on.

We move on. 

The cycle repeats.

And you're okay. 

the second- dolore

Sad is a word best described as overused.

Denied permission to go out? That's sad. 

Grandfather passed away? That's sad. 

Feeling like you want to die and your life has no meaning anymore and you don't see a point in existence and no one wants you anyway and you should just leave and please end this torment and you don't want to be anymore?

That's sad. 

And most of the time, when we say that's sad, we mean you're sad. 

You weren't capable of controlling it.

You weren't capable of doing something about it.

You're sad.

But sad as a word has so many facets to it.

How could such a simple word, such an overused word, possibly encompass the many shades of sadness?

How could it, when not even you can fathom the true depths of sadness?

Some days, it just gets too much for it to be termed simply sadness.

Some days, you feel like there's no hope for you anymore.

You don't belong.

You don't belong, not with your peers, not with time, not anywhere.

You stand out, and you will never fit in no matter how hard you try.

You always say the wrong things.

You always do the wrong things.

You always are wrong.

You either are too much, or not enough.

Not enough to belong with them, them who can smile and laugh and ease in as effortlessly as breathing.

Not enough to not feel like a third-wheel no matter what you do, because you are a third-wheel.

Not enough to feel wanted.

Is that part of sadness?

the third- volante

You understand that you're not all you're cracked up to be.

You're mean, you're unreasonable, and you're just plain repulsive.

"Hey, buddy, you're not pretending anymore. You're plastic. Cold, shiny, hard plastic."

Who knew a quote from Mean Girls could be so relatable?

Oh right.

Because that's what you are.

A mean girl. 

You're a mean girl, and you can't even deny it because that's what you are.

And you're angry because of it. You're angry, you're frustrated, and you want nothing more than to start over.

You're angry at the people around you.

You're angry at the situations you're put in.

But most of all, you're angry at yourself. 

For being so selfish.

For being so mistrustful.

For being who you are. 

Simply put, you hate yourself.

And you don't even know the true reason why. 

the fourth- smorzando

Giving up would be easy, wouldn't it?

Why don't you do it?

Why don't you?

Because you're a coward, that's why.

You run from your responsibilities.

You run from commitment.

You run from your issues.

You run from everything, simply because it's easier. 

You've fought for so long, and you're just so tired of fighting.

So you run.

And you hope that maybe, some day, you can run to your own elysium.

Where the things that threaten to eat you alive aren't there anymore.

Where you can simply be, without worrying about anything.

Where you don't think about giving up every single second of your wretched existence.

Because you're a coward.

the destruction- fine

There is never an end to anything, is there?

Life is a perpetual cycle, repeating itself over and over again regardless of whatever happens.

Like an broken gramophone stuck on replay, like a dog chasing its own tail, like the hesitant budding of new leaves on a tree stripped bare.

No matter what, life moves on.

We move on.

The cycle repeats.

But you're not okay, not really.

Because you haven't moved on.

You can't move on.

And that's really hard to admit.