Sometimes I forget

Sometimes I forget how lonely I am. Every day that I am alone reminds me of what I had with someone so long ago. It’s been so long that the truth has been buried under ideal reminiscence. There is no memory of what was, only what I need to think it was. What I need to think is that I was happy, that I wasn’t alone, and that I had someone to come home to that I could say nothing to and just hold in bed on a rough day. All I want to have is someone that I can be myself with; someone who I don’t have to hold back around, no matter what. Someone who will encourage me to do the things I’m scared of, and console me if I fail at them. Someone that I can call beautiful, even on their bad days, because I know that what I find beautiful in them isn’t what I see on the outside, but on the inside. I miss knowing that in 7 billion people, there was one other person there just for me. Love is a hard thing to find, but a harder thing to lose.