There's nothing lonlier than an abandoned house.
I wish I knew what is wrong with me. The more I try to be myself, the further I seem to push away those I love. I haven't felt like this for ages - I thought I'd conquered it. I guess it's a phase that I'm going through. It always seems to happen. I can go for months without that dark cloud hanging over me, and then suddenly it's there again, with no explanation and no seeming ending.
I'm trying to remember how I pull myself out of these situations, but I draw a blank. I don't think being alone helps, but I have no other alternative at the moment. T and I both need some space and I have no other friends who live in this neck of the woods. At least I have books. That's something I guess.