What would be the hardest about living alone is feeling lonely.
Most of the time, I could say I lived well. Most of the time, I preferred being alone instead of being around people. I am good at faking myself, so around people, they would see me as someone who is always laughing and joking around. Whenever I am alone, I am simply in the moment. Me, myself and I.
But there are times, when I do feel like I want to be loved, cared and understood. And those times were the loneliest. Those times were when I would crawl into my figurative cave, be moody, screaming for help to be noticed inside, but outside I am still functioning like a normal adult. A human who is hollow.
Is it because my soul isn't full? But this is a disease of biochemical imbalance. The result of my childhood. The result of growing up the way I did. I am facing the consequences now. It isn't anyone's fault. Not my own, nor my parents. It's just the way it is.
I am screaming right now, but no one heard me.
Help me. Help me. Help me.
