Do you remember when I wrote about loneliness? I didn’t know what it was then. I thought that loneliness was a feeling you chose to label when you could not feel fulfilled by people. Now I know that it is an unavoidable cause of death. And that if I remained in this empty city, with the roommates that do not leave their room and within these empty walls, I could quite possibly die within them. Loneliness is the root of different cries for help. Loneliness is silence. Silence within crowds and silence within your mind- when it reaches your soul, the one you never knew existed until it ached, you are inevitably trapped. I am trapped. I always believed in understanding your emotions and thriving through their acknowledgement. Now I only want to avoid them. And how exhausting it is to want time to pass, days to pass, life to pass. I want calls. Visits. Love. It feels like you’re getting higher and higher on a branch that you want to get down from. And the lonelier you feel, the higher up you go. The higher up you are, the longer the ladder needs to be. So you begin to expect bigger gestures from people. You begin to need a bigger ladder. I am a child in desperate need of a hug- asking for affection through words. I am begging for friendship. For love. For a touch. I am longing for a conversation. For laughter. And it is so so silent. And when you feel this lonely, you are so fucking terrified that it wont end. Because if it doesn’t- it is possible that the person you have spent years building could.