I know loneliness, the depths so deep I ran from the feelings, but it found me everywhere…since childhood.
Keeping secrets not mine to keep made me lonely. Not your everyday lonely but a scraping, clawing pain I could not escape from, exacerbated by life events- my children going away to college, a death or any loss.
Telling my story on paper removed the burden. I check my feelings, still in wonder at the peace- it’s peace; highs and lows, but not the swing of emotions that’s hard to ride. Is that nothing in there? No, that’s peace.
I still feel pain over painful things but not the sword of loneliness cutting so sharp I could not sit still. That loneliness evaporated with the written word when I shared my story. I’m not alone anymore. In the process I found…me…inside where I’d always resided but had been too broken to find my way home…