And

then die.

I          I

woke    and

up.        snap

I             Teeth

got           escape.

out                  don't

of                              I

bed                           me.

and                          behind

went                            sound

to                            Footsteps

a                                       run.

forest.                                  and

I                                     blade

drew                                my

a                                 drop

sword                            I

once                        but

more.                   real,

The                    feel

blade          doesn't

glistens       pain

for         The

only  arm.

my

claws  eyes

it               to

then              see

breath               in

Hot                    the

growl.                  light

loud                             of

a                                       a

is                                      half

There                               moon.

something.                                 The

with                                              road

connects                                               is

it                                                       dark

until                                                       and

black                                                    rocky,

the                                                    but

through                                        oddly

swings                                   familiar,

blade                                  though

My                                            I

turn.                                don't

I                                    think

and                            I've

growls                  been

Something      here

before.

There is a difference between being lonely and being alone.

Being lonely is that scratching itch for companionship that you cannot scratch alone. It hurts and aches until the only thing filling the emptiness inside is frustration, either with yourself or others. Unfortunately, not every person is a companion and it is all too possible to be surrounded by people you share nothing with or people that just do not see you. You can even be talking to someone, but it's all shallow. It almost scratches the itch, but it's always a few too many inches to the left to really help. Of course, on occasion sometimes this drive to socialize nets you a new friend. You meet someone you otherwise wouldn't and you become friends, and it's good. Being lonely isn't fun, but sometimes it's just the push you need to reach out. 

Being alone is different. It is true that sometimes there is overlap, sometimes you're alone and lonely, but sometimes you're just alone and that's okay. Being alone is that moment when you can just be regardless of whether that's just existing for a while or maybe lounging in your comfiest clothes (or lack thereof) and doing something you enjoy. Something that may be silly or strange, but it doesn't matter because there's no one to judge you. It's nice and quiet, and everyone needs a break from society sometimes. Some need it more than others. It can be a little dangerous as being alone can easily lapse into loneliness, but generally it's okay. 

Hey, I'd say it's good to hear from you again, but that'd require you to stop talking in the first place. So I guess instead I'll ask what exactly you're trying to do. I mean, I won't say I'm not grateful that you ensure I don't make everyone hate me, but if you could tone it down a bit, that'd be nice. I can't let go even for a moment because you keep telling me that the moment I lose even a bit of control over myself my whole world will crash. I cannot write because you always say that I will regret it. I miss the days that you weren't nagging me and I could run around a store in a silly hat and not feel the least embarrassed. I miss when I could walk around my own house in pajamas and not feel a deep sense of shame.

I cannot even decide whether or not to wear makeup, because if I don't you call me ugly and point out every little mark of acne and the dark circles and every place where my skin isn't quite the same color as the skin next to it. If I do? Well, when I do you remind me that I am a sell-out who never really wanted to wear it, you just said over and over that I had to. With or without it, people say I'm beautiful, but you scream louder than all of them. If I wear a t-shirt I'm a slob, if I don't you point out any little piece of me that could be called fat even though at times I border on underweight, which you won't let me forget either. You are constantly screaming at me to hide everything I like in the fear that someone will think I am a freak or a dork. 

I hate you. I know you are here to protect me, but you are smothering me. I cannot leave my house in fear that I'll be shunned, and then you yell at me for being an anti-social freak. So please, leave me alone already. I can live with the shame you're trying to prevent because you already cause worse, and everyone says you're doing your job right because I look perfect because no one sees me. If they did, you always remind me that they would hate me too. 

So please, dear dignity, leave me alone and just let me wear a fluffy hat with gloves attached and play with silly string again.