This kind of loneliness is honest

There was a time
when I tried to escape loneliness.

Not consciously.
But I chose people who couldn’t really meet me.

People who felt… grounding.
Rational.
Stable.

The opposite of me.

And for a moment,
it felt like a connection.

But it wasn’t.

It was an illusion of not being alone.

---

Now I see it clearly.

You can sit next to someone
and still feel unseen.

You can speak
and feel something in the air resisting you.

Not openly.
Not directly.

But present.

---

And at some point,
I stopped trying.

---

There is no real space left for me.
Not the real me.

Not the one who wants to open,
to speak,
to be seen
without being managed, softened, or resisted.

Because I feel that resistance.

Even when nothing is said.

---

So I chose something else.

I chose honesty.

---

And what came with it…
is loneliness.

A very honest one.

Not dramatic.
Not overwhelming.

Just present.

---

Sometimes it makes me sad.

Not in a heavy way.
Just in a quiet, human way.

The kind of sadness that comes
when you see things as they really are.

---

But I choose this
over forced connection.

I choose this
over sitting with someone
and still feeling alone.

Because that kind of loneliness
is deeper.

---

This one…
at least doesn’t lie.

---

And maybe one day
someone will meet me here.

Not fix it.
Not change it.

Just… meet me.

---

But right now,
this is where I am.

And I accept it.

A.