I have a love-hate relationship with being alone.
I love that I get to do whatever I want whenever I choose to. I hate that I didn’t have someone to share some of the best moments of my life so far. I love the feeling of being independent, of actually doing something by myself, for myself. But I hate the feeling of being selfish, sometimes; of not thinking of anyone else. I love that I can truly be happy in the moment, even when I am also by myself. But I hate that I feel lonely every time I think that I could’ve been happier if I were with someone.
I love that I get to be alone, and at peace with the fact that I am alone. But I hate that I get to be alone, and at peace with the fact that I am alone. Because I admit that I need someone to be happy. To be truly happy. And I really am not ashamed to say that. I feel like most of us would want that one person to share our happiness with.
There are days that I get by okay, but there are days when the longing is too much and I can’t help but feel depressed, desperate and resigned. Today is one of those days.
Feature photo from Pixabay.com