Thoughts on loneliness

I prefer to call it melancholia because it sounds better than depression.

It lends it a waifish Victorian orphan, flowing night gowns, guttered out candles, delicate disposition kind of romanticism.

I think I've always been afraid of my emotions. I grew up believing that to feel was to experience pain.

I am relearning everything through the tiniest steps. Through the tiniest hitch in my breath.

There is beauty in there somewhere without me having to manufacture it. I just don't know how to find it yet.