People often forget that alone and lonely are two entirely different things.
Alone is coming home to myself — drinking tea, painting, and finding peace in the quiet.
Alone is lying beneath the stars in Central Park, staring into the universe and wondering how I’m going to leave my mark on the world.
Alone is sitting in my living room, lost in self-reflection, putting my thoughts onto paper and discovering pieces of myself I never knew existed.
But most importantly, alone means I do not have to wilt into the arms of another person just to feel whole. It means I will not surrender my light to someone who cannot recognize the stars I carry or appreciate the poetry within me.
Lonely is different.
Lonely is the ache that begs for anything to fill the silence.
Lonely is craving a presence, even when that presence does not bring peace.
Lonely is reaching for someone simply because the emptiness feels too loud.

Alone is freedom.
Lonely is longing.

And I would rather stand beneath my own stars than shrink myself just to be someone else’s moon

Illustration by: Fatima Seehar
Copyright 2019 Valerie Sanchez