Acceptance of what is

There is just me, and all around me is just black and silent.

What scares me is that I'm accepting of this. The darkness is a comfort of sorts.

I know that there's nobody coming for me. I have to be there for myself, I have to help myself, because not only will nobody else do so, but nobody else knows I exist.

What other explanation for calls never returned, plans never followed up on? A hug and a friendly smile that disappears, and leaves me to myself despite all its promises?

Maybe I should be alone. I trust me. I know I will be ok if it's just me, because I'm always ok in the end. I always get by, in the end.

The darkness is an oasis and although I'm sad there sometimes, I know that I will always be ok because there is nobody to rely on who will come through for me like I will.

I am lonely, and I want to be proved wrong. I want to be able to do more than trust someone. I want to be able to rely on them. And I can't, so I am alone. And that is sad.

But I can learn to draw strength from isolation, and I can grow strong again. And from that strength, one day perhaps, I can earn back what I have lost - a rock in a storm as well a mountain in the sun.

The reason I cannot be upset about being alone is because I am not anybody else's problem. I'm not your problem, reader. I value you, and I miss you more than you could ever know. But I'm not your problem and that is only right and as it should be.

This is what is, and until I learn to be comfortable with it, with myself, I will never progress past what I am now. I'm a little bit messed up and nobody can fix it but me. So I'd best get to it, and the rest will follow, perhaps. And if not, I will still be stronger for it.