Loneliness has weight

It's past two in the morning and I ought to be asleep, exhausted from a long, tiring and at times frustrating week that hasn't even ended. But I can't sleep.

Got off the phone with my sis a half hour ago, the conversation having run longer than either of us planned. The tail end of the phone call has left me concerned about her, and somewhat depressed.

And then depression turned into complete dissolution into tears, all of a sudden. I curl up in an empty corner of my bed and cry. Suddenly, my own years of disappointments and pain caught up with me in an instant. They do that sometimes.

The un-empty part of the bed contains his sleeping form. I consider waking him up and asking for the comfort I need, then find myself simply hoping that he'll wake up on his own. Then I decide I'll have to sit it out on my own, as always. (They always offer to let you wake them up when you need them, but I'm always hard pressed to find a man able to be as easily awake as I can.)

I'm still afraid, and perhaps I'll always be. Haunted, too.

Having baggage is a good thing - it helps you grow. But sometimes, when it all comes back to you at once, its weight can crush.

Loneliness comes in many forms and durations.