I hate being lonely

You feel isolated

You feel ignored

You feel so angry at the world for making you feel this way

But the second things start to look better

Like there is a light at the end of the tunnel

Like there is hope after all

You start to think:

These friends weren't there for me in my darkest time, would they have stuck out the ugly dirt road because they actually care for me? Or are they here now because it is a smooth, paved road with a beautiful view.

They weren't there at my lowest

But do you know who was?

Loneliness

Loneliness was always there to give a near suffocating hug.

But at Loneliness gave me a hug, no one else did.

Loneliness is an old, welcoming friend.

It has always been there to rely on and has always been there for me even if it is slowly killing me, at least it doesn't just leave me alone while I die.

But the second things start to look better

Like there is a light at the end of the tunnel

Like there is hope after all

You question:

Is this all too good to be true?

It may be better to pop the bubble on my own accord now, than to have it pop in my face later.

Because I know at the end of the day Loneliness is ready to welcome me with open arms. Like the old reliable friend that he always was.