I have often opted for the desolate. Holding company with the universe alone. Never being great at truly relying. That nature was never nurtured. So I hold a distance. I find companions, but when I feel discomfort, or the time comes, I leave, bags never being unpacked. Some have lasted, but my closest company is the frequency of it all. The buzz I feel when I close my eyes. The warmth I feel when I look at the night sky. That which will be there for whatever I become. The impossibility of me.
I don’t regret living this way. Sometimes saddened, but never regretting what has been claimed by time. If I was another, I may. But the conditions of me make this path optimal. Some understand, and others do not. Very few I miss, but those whom I do, I do endlessly.
Nothing or all.
One day, I may unpack. Settle. Because I can be many. Ever-changing. The future may shape me into an unknown, whether through progress or decline. And I will take in the wave. Better than to be stagnant.
The comfort I now know, I can’t imagine leaving. But I have left the unleavable before, and sorrow doesn’t follow in my shadow. So I can imagine, and though I am afraid, I know I am sturdy in my resolution.
Comfort first, even if it is alone.