Differentiation, something they cannot see.
You mistake being alone for loneliness, something that you cannot seem to decipher. There is, however, a very thin line, an invisible borderline that separates the two phenomenon – “aren’t you lonely for being alone?” they ask, and I apologetically shake my head because they do not – and never will – understand why was I be alone to begin with.
“They will never understand,” I whisper, voice raspy and throat dry from trying to push them away, away, far from here, from my life and, “leave me alone.” – yet they fake a voice of sympathy, hand on my shoulder, gripping it with a fake consideration (like plastic, oh and plastic burns easily, doesn’t it?) as if I am the last, remaining piece of what’s left on Earth.
Leave me alone.
“You are lonely. You cannot survive alone. No one can.”
The back of my mind screams (so so hard I can feel my skull cracks – hello there, nutcracker!) but I cannot, I do not utter anything to shove them away.
Instead, the only answer that I always, always seem to come up with is repeated like a beautiful melody playing in my playlist;
“I’m fine. I’m alone and I’m fine.”
Because they do not and never will be able to differentiate the fact that I am alone but not lonely.
“So, please.. Leave me alone.”