A letter to Loneliness.

Dear Loneliness,

I am writing you because I have tried to communicate my feelings in a multitude of other ways. You seem to be hard to reach. Have you checked your voice mail? What about your email? Have you looked inside your mailbox? Did you get the memo? It is obvious you did not.

You are my unwanted friend, and I say “friend” because nothing else would be so persistently and willingly available for companionship . There are spaniels that would grow weary of the way I persistently walk away from you. Reporters working a story that would give up pursuing my answers to breaking news questions where as you have continued to follow me. My shadow, my unrelenting, even at high noon, shadow. The rain cloud that follows a cartoon character. My unwanted friend, you have become the most devoted partner I have. I fear there is nothing I can do to separate you from me. Nothing so terrible could I formulate that would force you to break this bond. When will you tire? When will you waver?

You crept between us. Sliding in where there was no room for anything else before . A devastating wedge of unhappiness. Who let you in? How did you know the combination to the lock that was our marriage? What gives you the right to decide it wasn’t valid? How did you come to encapsulate me when I was never alone? Are there other victims? Do their heads line the wall above your mantle? On cold winter nights do you stoke the fire in your hearth and reminisce while viewing the trail of destruction that is your trophy room?

I have so many questions, hours and hours of inquiries. I could interrogate you for days. Yet when you appear my mind is muddled. Cloudy with insecurity. Hazy and foggy with self loathing and regret. How nimbly you avoid my query. A skilled politician dancing around questions about a nasty scandal.

I hate you. I hate you. I HATE you. To hell with you. Be you side affect or cause, your purpose is none but misery. There is no purpose in you. There is no divinity about you. Reason has no answer for you. To simply be the opposite of something good for no reason other than to exaggerate the juxtaposition is a worthless cause.

When will you no longer take every advantage to diminish me? How long before you, Loneliness, no longer can anticipate my every move? Will you soon tire of swooping in at the first available second to overwhelm my soul and immediately make me assume the worst? Is there an eternity of unrequited torture in my future? Must you always turn my thoughts from the simple and innocent to the dark and angry and cynical? Is there no end to the depths which you will dig to find the pain you soak my ragged heart in?

Will you ruin what comes next?

Will you allow what comes next?

Will there be an end to you?

Will you ever answer for your actions? Will you be held accountable?

Sincerely,
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