Party of One.

For the past month, I’ve been alone.  The vice grip of loneliness strikes suddenly and without remorse.  Sometimes it’s when I have a funny thought and no one to entertain.  Sometimes it’s when I’m watching a movie and there isn’t a chest to fall into.  And sometimes it’s when I’m completely surrounded by people and I realize not a single soul knows my name.  What’s funny is that I’ve gone almost two decades without ever feeling this kind of torture before.  I remember damning the possibility of becoming lonely.  The idea of being alone was so foreign and bizarre.  Sometimes I saw it at bus stops in the rain or in restaurant booths occupied by a single, hunched frame.  What’s funny is that my idea of loneliness is still cliched.  I didn’t realize you could be lonely while wearing a pretty dress on a sunny day.

Party of One.

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