Lonely. Never Alone.

Spiders are frightening. Especially when they move their creepy little, alien-like bodies across the floor. I don't like them much at all. Bats are also a particular type of creature that I can't look at without shivering. I don't appreciate their existence. I know that without these two disturbing animals the whole ecosystem would be thrown out of whack and the Creator knew what he was doing when he made them. I just don't get it.

But more terrifying than either of these is the Greatest Fear. Yes it is capitalized. Yes it is something every single person on the planet is afraid of whether they would like to admit it or not. The greatest fear of mankind is being alone. I say this confidently because I have an idea of why we were created and I suppose it has a lot to do with relationships. We were created with this intense, almost animal like instinct, to BELONG somewhere. And not just any old where but somewhere with SOMEONE. I also suppose this great fear comes from the society we live in that idolizes this picture of fake, knock-off, imitation love. That is for a different post because this would turn into a book.

I am not an introvert. My life at this point in time would be much more simple if I happened to be created as an introvert. I draw my energy from being around other people. I don't appreciate being by myself. I know that it's a necessity at this point, but like bats and spiders, I just don't get it. To be quite honest and transparent it pisses me off that life circumstances (through NO ONE'S FAULT) has led me down this road of being by myself with my thoughts. It's like, instead of drinking espresso, which gives me an instant rush, I have to exercise because it's good for me. The exercise drains me but is ultimately making me stronger. Being alone is GOOD for ME.

At first, when I was introduced to this new concept of aloneness, I felt like my insides were going to shake right out of me! It's a little embarrassing to admit that the idea of being alone with myself brought on a full panic attack. I must be an incredibly terrible person if I don't even like being alone with me. Through this whole process I have realized something instrumental in the next chapters of my life. I am a very intricately made, perfectly planned, masterly forged, piece of art. When I breathe, my chest rises and falls. My body takes the air that surrounds me and causes it to oxygenate the rest of my parts, my throat vibrates with a specific sound that no one else in the world can make, my fingers carry identification marks that there is no match to. My skin can heal itself and regenerate like some kind of reptile. The way I think, and what I think, affects my mood, which directly affects my health. I have a spirit inside of me, a soul that can be so broken that it can actually kill my body. And then I start thinking about the ridiculous and slightly insane but  true idea that there is a great Creator that is creative enough, all knowing enough, and intelligent enough to create not only my parts but everything on the planet. Add that to the fact that He happens to know everything about me, and he for real authentic Gucci, REAL crab, LOVES me! None of that fake imitation stuff. And just like that I feel okay being alone because even though it may get lonely, I'm never really alone.