i never realized how much i liked being alone until i was, you know, like 6 years old.
maybe it’s the silence, or the fact that no one else can bother my thoughts but i am still just as attracted to being alone as i am to the way the snow will rest on the branches of trees... or that boy i see at that coffee shop every so often
but i mean usually people talk about loneliness like it’s a bad thing, but they have to realize that for me, the amount of people that i have in my life times 1000 plus a million (and lets through parenthesis somewhere in there) is not even the amount of miles it takes to get to just the moon. or the amount of minutes i would love to spend by myself aimlessly doing nothing other than trying to survive in my own thoughts.
i want you to know that i’m actually perfectly okay. i realize my parents worry about the increasing amount of time i spend not speaking to them and they worry about when i wont even say hello to my dog when i come home at 2:48 am 3 nights in a row but really i promise im okay
if promises were like hearts do you think they would cause the same amount of heartaches? i mean i never really cared about getting my heartbroken because then again, it allows me to be by myself more
i used to believe in a theory that if everyone got their hearts broken at the same point in time, nobody would be able to feel anything
now i only can believe in the feeling that i get when im driving in my car- you guessed it, alone, on a one way road with no stop signs because it is the only time when i can feel something without anyone else noticing
sometimes, spending time with people i love makes the urges to be alone harder to deal with. i know im supposed to want to go out and do things with others, but when the opportunities come, my mind is the gas pedal and my body is the break. or the other way around... i dont know for sure because ive never really had the time to figure it out yet but all i know is that the relief of how my blankets hold me at the end of the night makes it worth the torture