Certain you were right. Still lonely.
Alone, and sometimes lonely
Two things are true at once, and people struggle to say them in the same breath. Leaving was right. The house is quiet in a way that is sometimes wonderful and sometimes unbearable.
Admitting the second part feels dangerous, as though it invites everyone to say you should never have gone. So it goes unsaid, and people end up believing they are the only one sitting with it.
What comes up in these lines is rarely a longing for a relationship in the abstract. It is smaller and much more specific. Someone to tell boring things to. Someone who texts drive safe and means it. Being kissed on the forehead. Somebody who remembers how you take your tea.
Missing that is not the same as missing the person who hurt you, and it is not a crack in your decision. It is evidence that you still want closeness, which is the healthiest possible thing to want.
What people said
I want someone who texts back at 3am. Not because they're awake. Because I am.
longing
I've been alone long enough to know I don't need anyone. But sometimes I want someone.
longing
I want to laugh with someone at 2am about nothing.
longing
I imagined someone making me toast. Not a fancy meal. Just toast. Made with attention.
longing
I saw an old couple holding hands and something cracked.
longing
I'm building a life I love but some rooms are still empty.
longing
I want someone to read next to in bed. That's it. Just someone who reads.
longing
I miss the version of the future I planned before everything changed.
longing
I want to be known. Not figured out. Not analysed. Known. In the quiet way.
longing
I miss having someone to tell boring things to. What I had for lunch. What the cat did.
ache
The empty coat hook by the front door. That's where longing lives in this house.
longing
I want someone to see all of it. The mess and the magic. And stay.
longing
I keep choosing myself. Which is the right choice. But some nights it's a lonely one.
longing
I miss being touched without flinching. I miss trust being the default.
longing
I've been alone long enough to know I don't need anyone. But god, sometimes I want someone.
longing
I want someone who asks 'are you okay?' and waits for the real answer.
longing
I want to laugh with someone at 2am about nothing. I miss laughing about nothing.
longing
I imagined someone cooking for me. Not a fancy meal. Just toast. Made with attention.
longing
I want someone to choose me on purpose. Not by accident. Not by convenience. On purpose.
longing
The other side of the bed is cold. Has been for years. I still only sleep on my side.
longing
I saw an old couple holding hands in Sainsbury's and something cracked.
longing
I wrote a text I'll never send. It said everything I've been too proud to say.
longing
I miss being kissed on the forehead. That one hits different.
longing
I want to be someone's first thought. Not their afterthought.
longing
I don't want a relationship. I want someone to text 'drive safe' and mean it.
longing
We had beans on toast for dinner and my son said it was his favourite meal ever. It's the company not the food.
tender
I don't want sympathy. I want someone to say 'that was fucked up' and mean it.
ache
I don't miss him. I miss the version of myself that hadn't met him yet.
ache
I miss the person I was before I learned to walk on eggshells.
ache
I want to be held by someone who doesn’t need me to be smaller to feel bigger.
longing
Wanting someone is not a betrayal of the work it took to leave.
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Write it down