I love the concept of abstract writing, so since I haven't really written lately, I thought it would be fun to take on this little exercise.
Loneliness is a chameleon. It does not have one form, but many. The reason so many people hate loneliness is because it is something that is not well understood. It is a predator that looms, and strikes when we least expect. It is strong and merciless. Loneliness is the dim, pale moonlight shining on you as you lay alone in bed at night. It is standing in line at the grocery store, glossy eyed as the sounds of screaming children and beeping scanners surround you. It is in the eyes of those who will never understand.
Loneliness is the musty smell of an attic that's been opened for the first time in years. Dust dances in the sunbeams, landing on boxes and books covered in the webs of spiders long gone. Loneliness is invited to every party; it is the only one that stays after everyone has left. It is the snack at 2 AM in the darkness penetrated only by the blue light of a television.
Loneliness is lying on the bed, staring at the image of someone who will never be yours. It comes in countless colors; blue like the sky on a day you spent with a friend who has forgotten you, green like the grass of a place you'll never call home again; orange like the setting sun on a beach with only one set of footprints in the sand.
Loneliness is the twisted friend, both cruel and caring. It is the wind that caresses your hair on a chilly autumn day. It is the embrace of a warm blanket and a pillow that tirelessly collects tears. It is the echo of your name shouted in an empty house.
Loneliness is never lonely, because it is never alone.
