I’m learning to love loneliness. Being alone is like being with a good friend. You don’t have to explain yourself to her.
I invite her to sit next to me and enjoy a cup of coffee—or a vodka and cranberry, if that’s what the day calls for. She sits next to me while I watch my favorite TV shows. She follows me to work, to church, to dinner with friends or family.
Loneliness reads my favorite books with me. She sits next to me while I write. She holds my hands together when I pray. Sometimes she prays with me, or in my stead.
She has become a confidante.
I welcome her with open arms. She is quiet and pensive. She is reliable. She accepts me as I am. She points me to Jesus.
She teaches me how to be okay with myself. She patiently watches me travel through the deepest parts of myself, and she isn’t harsh with me when I reveal what I find, or frustrated when it takes me a while.
She travels the pages of my favorite stories with me. She makes wishes on stars with me.
She moves me to tears. She tells me its okay to laugh at myself, and she laughs along with me. She tells me truths. She helps me crumble up all the lies and toss them out.
She is quiet when my mind is clattering. She is loud when the silence suffocates.
Loneliness points out the details and funny things in the world around me that I otherwise wouldn’t notice.
She shows me who I am. No—who I really am, not who other people tell me I am or expect me to be. Loneliness reminds me that the reflection I see in the mirror is not who I am.
She’s helping me learn to dream again.
Loneliness is one part of me.
Every Friday, join the blogosphere for five minutes of free-writing on a single-world prompt, and watch where the Muse takes you. Find out more about Five-Minute Fridays here.