"No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee."

Sometimes I am watching myself live; like in a movie. I am objective. I see myself making mistakes; I make them anyway. I feel despondent, and I don't know how to fix it. In this way, I feel like I am living two separate lives. torn. Part of me wants to be alone: undisturbed silence, solitude. That part of me desires to be reclusive. The other part craves human intimacy - in such a way that I feel I am incomplete because I share no part of myself with anyone. When you let people in, I feel like they keep a little part of you - holding a secret like a fingerprint or a lingering memory. These pieces survive us. And because I don't let anyone in, none of me survives apart from myself. That is true loneliness. I'm trying to fix it, I just don't know how to reconcile the pieces of myself to one functioning person.