dear all the lonely ones

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There are many types of loneliness; some are felt when being separated from a loved one, some when surrounded by many people, others when surrounded by no-one at all. Feeling lonely doesn't have to be defined by how many people are in our lives or surrounding us; it could be as much as the lack of an element in our lifestyles that could completely knock us off our regular scale, causing us to be stuck in an unavoidable state of nullity.

Speaking as an introvert, I feel lonely. Perhaps more than others, however that's undecidable. Similarly as the pain people experience in harrowing moments of their lives - a person's inner thoughts and demons are uncountable and indeterminable. That being said, I do feel lonely. 

Sometimes it's a nice type of loneliness, one where despite being so painfully deserted I still feel at peace with myself and feel as if I can counter my desolation with creativity. Many of my finest creations are from those states, or so I think. My mind usually blanks out completely due to the lack of communication, causing it to speak on its own, frequently resolving in an outburst of scenarios and ideas that I wouldn't come up with in any other mode.

Other times, this same loneliness takes a strange turn into unbearable sadness, one that I simply can't turn into anything positive whatsoever. Despite being an introvert at heart, connecting with people, sharing thoughts and opinions, conversing are all aspects that I can't survive without. I thrive because of the power I gain from inspirational, beautiful people... but they also exhaust me (this is truly a topic for another time, I could go on and on about the paradoxical relationship between myself and other people but my god nobody wants to read that).

A loneliness that isn't always spoken of, yet the one that inspired this post in the first place, is the loneliness in one's own house. Growing up, as I still am, I have managed to perceive the many perspectives of my friend's and their households - many of them being rather unhappy. Having the miraculous yet daunting opportunity to live with both of my parents together, followed by individual living with the each of them, I have grasped onto 3 different perspectives consisting of the 2 people. Naturally, there are more people who come into the mix in all situations, but that is not relevant at the moment as I am not organising a favourite placement. The point is that I had reproaches to both of my parents for their methods of bringing me up. Sometimes it was the lack of time they were spending with me, others it would be them trying to control my lives to the most absurd aspects such as even the organisation of my room (I could come home one day and find my room completely reorganised, without even a whisper of consent - and yes, this occurred multiple times in the past couple years). Perhaps it is the Polish personality. Then again, many parents are more absurd than others. Truly, I was never happy in any of my households. I felt the unbearable sadness type of loneliness in those houses, whereas I feel the at peace with myself loneliness when living alone or far with other people. 

Naturally, this cannot be compared to actual living with certain people for longer periods of time, but the concept is that there are so many ways one's future living can pan out and the loneliness is not eternal. Unfortunately, many people do not communicate well with their family while living with them, whereas they get along very well once they move out. It could be hormones, it could be family issues, it could be the rarity of seeing each other that proves to be special. Whatever it is, the void between one's self and their family isn't irreparable. Similarly, the loneliness you may be feeling isn't timeless. 

I lost my topic, as I frequently do while typing with a headache accompanying me. But nonetheless, I hope to have gotten some points across..? I love you and I am forever open to any of your messages - no matter how seemingly pointless or on the contrary, deep and meaningful, they may be.

love, golden rose