Hues of Lonely

So many interpretations come to mind at the thought of the word lonely. To behold and not be held, to love and not be loved back, to smile and not get a smile in return, to feel so much yet your heart is empty, to reach deep inside you to a bottomless pit of nothingness. Is that it? If the answer is yes, then loneliness, like depression, is a disease........a silent, slow killer.

I see myself slowly fading, sinking even. Where is my window? Where is my ray of hope. When will this heart sing? So many questions.....no answers.

I lie awake each night wishing many wishes. Wishing the arms tightly wrapped around me were not mine, speaking to my pillow when I have something to say. He never answers but in my heart I hear him speak. He says all the things I crave to hear, I hear him well. And when I cry, he gives me great soft silent comfort. I named him..... a name close to my heart. He knows all my secrets. He listens every night and he lets me hold him while I sleep but what pain? He can not hold me back, he can not love me.

Sense and sensibility. Am I on the brink, the verge of insanity? If yes, then it doesn't feel as bad as they say. Not bad....just empty. And the colours? Yes, I see them. A kaleidoscope.The many hues of lonely - they paint a picture of me.