And suddenly, all the words make sense, and I’m not lonely anymore. Which is weird.

Because it’s cold out, I should feel chilly as I sit outside and watch the sunset but I am absurdly warm. I am, happy? I suppose. And for once I am not feeling at a loss. I’m not craving someone to hold my hand and call mine and I don’t know how they did it. The list of people hidden behind the walls of my home playing truth or drink, I’m not sure how they filled the void but they did. Only 4 of them are my friends, 3 of which are my roommates, but the apartment still feels so much better with all these strangers. This is a first. I don’t remember a time where I didn’t prefer being alone. Where my dishes being scattered among my peers didn’t irritate me.

I was learning to spread love at our living room table. How odd, I chuckled as I let my hand drop over the railing. It laid against the metal calm while i congratulated myself for creating such a care free life. And when I looked up at the sky with its orange and purple hues dancing among the clouds, I knew that there was no going back to the yearning and painful nights. The smell of vodka mixed with a bad chaser would always be knocking on my brain demanding an audience, and my new friends would be right behind it ready to smoother me in joy. I dont ever see myself being lonely again. I have a village now and its a little broken but its good. Yea, its good.