When I was a little girl, it didn’t hurt so much that I didn’t have friends. I was too young to understand that being alone wasn’t normal. I didn’t know what being attached to someone was like. I always just depended on myself. Now that I’m older, and I see all these people. They all have someone. And I’ve only gotten mockingly close. Close enough to briefly taste what it’s like not to be alone. What it’s like to have someone help you counter the voices in your head. I got just close enough to realize that I was missing out. Enough to realize how dysfunctional I am. I am not capable of being with people. But I also know now that I don’t want to be alone.