From time to time it hits – that aloneness. In reality it is loneliness that knocks us out of balance, has us believe that we are without the kind of connection we so urgently seek.
Yes, we need time alone. To think. To be unmonitored and to let out our weirdest quirks. Alone time provides us with a sense of self efficiency, of independence.
For a while.
Until our thoughts come to rest and our souls crave immersion. In whatever way.
Other times your heart is torn apart by the sheer sensation of feeling alone in a way that no one hears you, notices you, stays with you, sits side by side with you and holds your hands. It may just be the impression of not wanting to sleep alone. Or to read a book when another presence is felt, when it is a living together thing, an adult version of connecting to one another in a most subtle yet immensely deep way.
There were times when I despised how I felt when loneliness snuck up on me, when the cravings for a deep fuck …..when that fuck would provide being with someone, with being held and feeling loved and feeling accepted and endured and loved.
Loneliness soon was more than just being alone. It was a hunger for a subtle touch over hours without neither of us realising that this is what it is.
Watching the rain in silence.
Watching a movie together.
Just doing stuff together.
No need to talk.
Just be here.
When tears wet a face in silence.
And then the deep embrace.
Just stay. Please stay.
It comes in handy to be able to just cum on end. Then the awareness of being lonely fades into the background. But when the rush of a half a day cum is over, when senses realign to a lesser heightened state, when the realisation of being alone surfaces – there is that loneliness. The aloneness that hurts. Badly.
Loneliness – a way to say ‘I miss you’, ‘I want to have you around’ and more than any of it I want to feel caressed, penetrated and held. Oh, and ‘I trust you with my silence and my mutual absence with you’.
Loneliness. That time when we realise we are indeed alone.
And learn how to be with ourselves.
– Diana M. joice