Solitude

Its one of those rainy, monsoon nights... Damp, humid and cloudy. Cloudy skies that contain and curtain the stars and the moon.
I hate those clouds... I do. They separate me and make me feel lonely and vulnerable.
Lately, I've developed an used-to-ness with being lonely. Its not that I like being alone, its just that there's no other option.
I am, yet to discover myself... And I do it in strange ways. I even doubt how many people completely understand themselves.
I hate my loneliness, even though I belong to it as much as it does to me.
I hate not being to express my loneliness.
'cause No one pays any heed.
'cause None will stop and ask.
'cause None will bother to peep into the troubles.
I know, this all just feels like a random input... But if you ever have felt alone, it will all make sense... Even the chaos... the randomness.
There are some feelings that can never be conveyed through discussions, or talks, or conversations. And if you do convey them somehow,
A display of emotions,
A show of kindness,
Some sweet words,
is all that you might get.
But is it worth?
I'm tired honestly,
To play the gentleman, when you're craving from the inside like hell, for someone to satiate your lonliness.
To be as non-exposed as possible, afraid that it would reveal your vulnerability to the one you're dying to share things with.
'cause deep down inside, I'm afraid. Afraid that if I really open myself up, I'd lose my worth.
'cause there are, frequent times. Frequent times, when I crave.
I told you, I haven't completely discovered myself yet...
There are times when I feel disturbed. Disturbed to the point where I feel my mind getting crushed over, my heart getting pumped out, my soul being ripped off...
I crave. I crave for a healer.
But I'm afraid, as I told you. Afraid that if I ever find anyone such, I'd become addicted.
Afraid that if I'd be so frequently lonely and vulnerable, I'd die of the absence of the healer.
But then, who doesn't need....?
Those motherly eyes..
Bonding in directly with the panicked kid into you?
That sweet voice..
Able to charm out even the deepest troubles out of you?
Those warm arms..
Which could make you forget everything, but the love that they contain for you?
Those soft fingers..
Which would trace into your hair and caress them softly to calm down even a Tornado rising inside you?
Got lured, didn't you?
But its not always so simple, so sweet and so satiating...
How I wish it could be, though.
The Question really arises when this same one advantages your vulnerability.
And yet,
I crave. I feel my soul getting torn.
I... feel... alone.
But this loneliness is something that brings me closer to the ink and paper twin.
I wish it'd be the same for me...
Ink and Paper are like twins. Both together, make up everything. Both as individuals, are nothing.
But then,
Even ink blots on poor paper.
Questions arise everywhere and so does loneliness. The thing is, how one survives it all.
And yet, one can't write with just Ink, or just Paper.
A healer would make it all so easier for me.. easier to put my jigsawed soul into the right order, to warm me against the chill, or simply cover my vulnerability.
As it is,
It is never too easy to be in the gentleman's shoes and play it so well.
And,
Being good is never worth it, if it becomes so easy.
Loneliness comes and goes.