Lonely is as Lonely Does

As of late, all I know or feel is how alone I am. Someone once told me, We're all alone, we are born alone and will die alone, no one can experience those things with us, the question is, are you lonely?

I always have and always will answer yes to that. Recent revelations have uncovered discordance in what I say VS. what I do. 

If behavior is motivated solely by belief (argue against it all you want, its true), then I believe that being alone and lonely is worth more to me than being among friends. Because I always, always, act accordingly.

I wonder why?

Truly, why?

What do I gain by being where I am right now. Alone, in the dark, the flicker of my TV providing the room's only light. I listen and watch the world go by, hating every minute by myself. Yet, I end up here every time. Something's amiss.

I figured it out.

I push them away to save them, same as if I jumped in front of a bullet or speeding train. I protect them from me. Not a single one of them can say they're not better off now. They are. And maybe I am too. The same wise man quoted above also told me I don't get into relationships.

I take hostages.

I am what my parents made me. If I were you, had every experience you had through your eyes, processed by your brain, I'd be you. No one is self made. Beliefs are rooted to the soul. Leopards can't change their spots, only their outlook on what those spots represent, beauty, ugliness, camouflage. 

For two days now I have cried, deep, heaving, sobs. Throwing up pain as if poisoned. This realization as savior, not victim, hurts more than it's healed.    

I trudge. I wade. I step as if through crude. 

I'm tired, lonely, and full of regret.

I am neither normal, nor are my circumstances. But how long can I use that as an excuse?

Not much longer...