Nights laying in bed when I'm not able to sleep (almost every night now it seems) are when I feel lonely. It just feels wrong being there alone, or not having anybody to call or talk to, or not having a roommate's door to knock on and quietly whisper until they wake up. All I need is a hug, or maybe I need more. I need something that I don't have. This feeling is made worse by the fact that no one is online to talk to me, not even the people I don't talk to. Its a mean kind of thing, that I talk to people who don't talk to me when I'm desperate and I have no one else ALIVE to speak to. I don't want to share my misery or lack of hope, I just want to share my hand and a midnight story in soft tones. Everyone else in the world is sleeping, tucked away in blankets and they have dreams for company. When I'm awake at night I have no one but myself and the sorrowful dirge of the music that consoles and saddens me at the same time.
I hate being alone. Each night points out this fact again and again. I hate the night, the same night that I used to love for the same reasons I hate it now.