#oncomplexloneliness

The loneliness of #complexindividuals is being alone while standing in a crowd

There are #1milliontomorrows.

We #collectivelywrite our #collectivestory.

Can we be a little more #empathetic? A little more #open? A little more #spiritual?

Can we embrace the #truestory? That life is strange, and people cope with grief however they can?

Can we tolerate #complexindividuals and their eccentricities?

Can we build a society for all of us?

She stood alone.

There was no one there.

Or there. Or here. Or anywhere.

She was alone. Alone is a world filled with people. People whose minds and souls stood behind doors she couldn’t unlock.

She did care. Everyone thought she didn’t, but she did.

She was lonely. She just didn’t understand how to communicate with them.

They didn’t understand her. But more importantly, she didn’t understand them, no matter how hard she tried.

And so she kept on going, alone in a world filled with people.

He knew his parents loved him.

He knew they tried to understand him. They knew he was trying too.

But some doors stay locked, no matter what key you try.

They weren’t like him and didn’t know anyone like him. They were scared of him and anxious about him and incessantly worried.

He wasn’t worried. He was lonely.

Xe didn’t know who xe was. Xe was trying to discover xe’s identity. Experiment. Learn. Grow.

But xe never felt at home in xe’s body.

Is that xe’s fault? That xe was born inside a body that never fit the body in xe’s mind?

Why should xe spend xe’s life in a body that tortures them?

Who are we to judge them?

They are human. Their pain is real. And for many of them, incessant.

Can we make the world better for them?

So they don’t go through the pains we did?

Why can’t we be better? Why can’t we make a world that they can thrive in?