When I was first made aware of the fact that I did not like being alone

I thought of it like a poor introduction to a mutual friend –

it’s awkward and scary, especially those times where

the one person linking you goes to the bathroom and you’re

sat there wondering if you’ve yet brought up university or

work or family or holidays or anything that you’d think everyone experiences

   but then by the time you start talking

   and I mean really talking    they come from around the corner and shake their hands dry

and

even though you made some sort of connection beyond

that initial fear of this stranger

it’s like they disappear and your friend (who is also their friend)

becomes ten feet tall and

takes over the room once again

but then, by the time it’s all done,

you’re still there,

sitting (or standing) and

that feeling of loneliness claws to the surface

but for some reason this new version of being alone feels so much different.