Alone with Someone Else

It was mind June in a hotel in Bali. S. and I swam in the pool in my hotel, talking about men, about life, about how to become better people, where we want to go, what we want to become, things we've seen or done. It was with her that I felt less alone.

I had missed that feeling. The feeling of identity. Something so simple as a conversation, one single conversation, could turn the whole heart over, bringing in new light, allowing for new seeds to grow.

I'd wondered when I'd lost it. That feeling of togetherness. Not just togetherness with another person, but togetherness with the world, with myself, as myself with another person. That's what felt so incredible. Being myself together with someone else.

I remember sitting on W.'s couch with my S., the male S., my love. Did I love him because I was lonely? Was love something I'd made up to cure the loneliness? When I think about it now, it didn't feel as it felt with S. in the pool. When my S. and I would sit and watch a movie or cuddle, it didn't feel like I was being myself together with someone else, it was just being with someone else. These are the times, times of meaningless connections, that I've felt the most alone. Alone with someone else.

There is no set cure for loneliness, I don't think. Because no one thing can make you feel yourself. But I think you, or I am the key; to be ones self together with someone else.