which kind of loneliness it is, bring you in the arms of the virtual world? Is it the same loneliness which you felt as Thorne was your guest? Is it a quiet, whispering, sad loneliness? Is it an emptiness? Fullness? Is it loud and painful with every movement, with every thought?
Inexplicable things happen around me and in me. I write almost every day a letter for you. I send none of them to you. I am afraid. I fear something to act what I cannot judge. I fear to be immoderate.
How already years ago, as I turned me to Louis and got in the arms of the forum.
I believed to have discovered something in me and in the world. I reacted so unreasonable (and/or immoderate) to this, that just unreasonable could be reacted to me. Things has changed me.
These questions, were the first words of my letter to you which I write weeks ago. You must not answer this. I expect it in no manner. If you want….which kind of loneliness, Marius?
Sweet woman, gifted of such a way with words. Is it a blessing or a curse to be able to give word and description to this deep pain. I have been sitting here thinking on your question for a while because, as I am sure you know and intended, it has roused something that has hidden in the very depths of my heart. I try not to voice my loneliness because I have difficulty expressing weakness of any sort.
But yes, it is whispering, sad, and quiet. It is emptiness and fullness all at once. And I do feel it loud and sad with every step, in every moment, with every thought. It seems to envelope itself around everything I do, but I have carried it with me so long I am accustomed to it. Emptiness becomes a strange companion after so long, and it is like I can no longer live without it inside of me. Yes, you become used to it, though not so much that you don’t feel it with every breath and every second.
I create it within myself. I could change it, right? If I were to step outside, relate to other people, but I cannot. More specifically, I will not. How is it that I can love something I loathe so very much? Is it routine? Is it all I feel I am worth? I do not know, and further I do not want to find out. I fear finding out may lead to discoveries and insights I am not willing to receive or accept.
Why do you write to me?
Why do you not send them to me?
Why do you fear to be immoderate or unreasonable? Aren’t we all allowed to indulge when warranted?
Darling, you must know that I have to answer something when it resonates so. My heart, as it is, compels me.