The loneliness never really leaves.
Sometimes it subsides– but when you are a lonely being, its return is inevitable.
It is as if the void is a part of you.
When you have no constant, it is your constant.
Temporary distractions exist, but this void has a permanent leak.
That of which fills it, always, eventually, seeps out.
I wonder if a plug exists. If I will ever find it. . .
Or is this void just me?