Loneliness feels palpable, like this empty spot inside your body that you're not quite sure how to replace. It's always there when you're alone, it's always there when you're around people and wishing that you were close to them and that they understood you. It never really goes away. Sometimes someone fills up that empty part of you, but it just makes it worse in the end. When they leave the hole is bigger than before, it's colder and darker. You remember all the feelings that they filled it with, all the warmth and compassion, and all the unmitigated love they gave. Now all you have for company are tears. The salt sting they bring might as well be the harsh words of a stranger, but they know your face intimately, all the curves, all the imperfections that you hide from the world, all the secrets that you wish you could share.
Drugs are like a stranger you invite into your house. You're so empty inside that you want the company of anyone, you don't care who they are, you're so desperate. All those secrets you wish you could tell, you tell all to this stranger, because you know they'll be gone in a few hours and you won't see them again until the next time. You wish the next time wouldn't happen, you wish the first time never happened. But you can't stop it, whenever you're alone you can rely on that stranger, knowing they won't hurt you, knowing they won't betray you, knowing that they won't leave you. You can give them everything and they'll take it all away, all the emptiness, all the hurt, all the pangs of the heart that keep you up at night.