There was a moment when I went swimming in the ocean. We were snorkelling in one of the most gorgeous places on Earth. One by one I watched my friends return from a section of the ocean in fear. Each spoke brave words, then when they went to where the girls had pointed, all returned terrified of what they saw. I swam with caution, thinking it couldn’t have been that bad. Replicating the same experience I had just watched. I swam to the edge of the coral, and saw the deep dark opening of the ocean. A depth I could never comprehend. I tentatively swam out. Each stroke of my arm getting further forward, was another layer of fear that wound its way deeper into my mind. I was terrified and I was barely out in the open. The depth, the expanse and complete and utter blankness of what I was experiencing was engulfing me in fear.
The same can be said for the feeling of loneliness. An entrapment of fear that we all feel immune to.
Till we experience the expanse of solitude.
It’s encompassing in it’s company. Completely debilitating. As much as I want to deny it, the fear of loneliness has me in its grip. I’m not afraid of being alone. Because I’ve felt this fear in both of my failed relationships. The depth of the feeling, through to my core, floors me each time. It’s the fear of not truly connecting with a person. To never find the home base. That person that suddenly the world makes sense for. I find myself looking at this expanse, this giant, great, big, mass of isolation. I’m trying to get comfortable staring right at it. Staying within its company, and pushing myself to swim all the way out to the depth of loneliness. Lay out, and be completely comfortable with the solitude of my company.
Connection with another doesn’t matter.
Connection with myself is the only solution.
Flickering Dedications. 