I do not recall the last time I was with someone, yet I do not remember the last time I was alone. All I know is that I can tolerate loneliness as long as people surround me.
For some time, I thought it stemmed from the fear of actually being alone but I’ve come to realize that I fear nothing but myself.
No, this is not a positive message lavished with self-love. What I mean to say is that I’m afraid of being alone with myself, with my own feelings and thoughts because maybe, just maybe, I will succumb to my need to face who I am.
I’m more in touch with my values and purpose when I’m alone, yet I still feel out of place. I find myself getting caught up in fairy-tales, but every day, for just a minute, I become a rationalist. It’s like I’m a…
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