I have known you, loneliness

I have known you, loneliness, for longer than I would have liked. I have watched you move in, with your sharp edges and battered corners, and all your solid weight. I have listened as your whispers become howls and your howls become deafening. I have felt you over my shoulder, laying your rough hand on the nape of my neck and applying endless cruel pressure. I have felt your dark shadow throughout it all, gliding in at every quiet moment. You, loneliness, are my most reliable friend. My ironic companion, sitting silently beside me, waiting your turn to gather up the shards of every dark moment in my life and lay them across me like a stiff, black blanket. And even though I sometimes feel for just an hour or two that I may have lost you, I know you are there, waiting to return soon enough. It is a strange sort of unwelcome comfort, loneliness, that your familiarity both soothes and hurts me. At least, of all things, I know you will never leave me.