Loneliness isn't always being alone. Sometimes it's just being in a room full of people, booming with love and overflowing with conversations and small talk but still feeling small by yourself.
Sometimes, it's sitting beside your heart's owner and feeling like you've lost the key to their heart.
Sometimes, it's being replaced easily with other infatuations and trivialities that may be fresh, compared to your stagnancy. Your permanence.
It may be everything, but it's always dreadful and draining and docilely the most ferocious beast that ever devoured a man.
It shapes insecurity, shrouds dreams and alludes to darker sanctities than the one you're accustomed to. It's the space between an old comfort zone and moving on to a new one. It's the texts left on seem. It's the breathless pants after a panic attack. It's the headache or rather, heartache, when you wake up to an empty bed. It's every intense goodbye and every ambiguous hello. It's a bottomless pit destined to make you fall with no trampoline to bounce you back up most often. Worst of all, at some point, it is inevitable.