Craving Solitude, Fearing Silence

I want to be alone... but I'm scared to be alone. I have so many things to say, but I have no words. I'm feeling disconnected. I don't want anyone, I don't want to talk, laugh, share, or meet. I just want a quiet place, just myself, no human being. I'm scared of human interaction again, I guess. I'm afraid of the noise, the expectations, the vulnerability. My heart aches for solitude, yet trembles at the thought of isolation.

I crave the silence where I can hear my own thoughts, where I can feel my own heartbeat without the chaos of the world pressing in. I'm tired of pretending, tired of the masks I wear. I want to strip away the pretense and just be. But the fear... the fear of what I might find in that quiet place, it holds me back.

I need a sanctuary from the world, a place to heal, to breathe, to be. Yet, I'm haunted by the emptiness that solitude brings. I long for peace, but I'm terrified of the darkness that accompanies it. The echoes of my own thoughts scare me, the demons that I keep at bay with noise and distraction.

I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a precipice, wanting to jump but afraid of the fall. I want to retreat into my own world, away from the pain and the pressure, but I'm scared of being consumed by my own mind. I'm stuck in this limbo, wanting to escape but fearing the escape itself.

I want to be alone, but I'm scared to be alone. I guess I'm afraid of finding out who I really am beneath all the layers I've built up. I'm afraid of the raw, unfiltered version of myself. I just want to find a place where I can exist without fear, without pain, without expectation. I just want to be.