So many nights have been spent by writers trying to describe their loneliness as a choice when we could only pick our pens up to feel less lonely.

We may never find an audience for the words we say to ourselves, but we'll never run out. We'll still keep talking in the hope that someone will tell us that our words are the ones they needed to explain their loneliness too.

We're not writing to express; not always. Sometimes, we write to find pieces of ourselves outside us.