There are moments when being alone feels ok.  When the wide reaches of time feel like luxury and indulgence.  When silence is opening and healing.  Like a deep, unfettered breath.  When alone is just a state of being complete.  And then there is the alone of crowded spaces and forced conversation.  Where time aches.  And stretches with unfathomable distortion.  When alone is lonely.  And it feels like clouds and trees and sky conspire.   There are times when alone is perilous.  When alone feels like weight and sorrow.  Tomorrow I might be able to breathe again.  But today I am alone.


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