Life on the Fortress of Solitude

I’d like to think that i’m good at being alone.

I’ve never truly wanted someone to be with. Not since my parents split up. Well, maybe sometimes when I see a happy couple, i’ll be envious for a second but then it’ll pass and that’s it.

I like doing things on my own. I go to the movies by myself on a regular basis and enjoy traveling and grocery shopping alone. I love staying at home, cooking only for myself or cleaning the house in peace. I get by without any emotional support from other people (even though God knows how much I need it). I’m not bitter, I’ve never needed anyone else to pick me up from whatever kind of hell I find myself in from time to time. I’ve always thought i’d manage to live alone my whole life.

But when everything seems to be falling apart, like right now, I can’t help but wish that someone was here with me. Not necessarily a lover, maybe a friend. Someone who would just listen or crack the right jokes at just the right time, someone who would patiently wait while I try my hardest to stop crying, someone who would try to cheer me up by buying me a Twix candy bar. Someone who would tell me to stop sulking and suck it up because life goes on. Someone who would make me feel like everything’s okay just by sitting beside me while my whole world crumbles to a heap of ashes.

Sometimes, I think i’d pick a companion over being strong enough to conquer this shit by myself. But then reality slaps me hard across the face and reminds me that that’s not an option. And I guess that’s how I break the trance and survive with just me through all the bullshit.