Lonely/Alone.

Officially, I am alone. But just for a few hours. A few simple, solemn hours.
I woke up this morning to my brother yelling about brushing his teeth, and my mother yelling about going somewhere, and my sister yelling about something, I don't know what. I sat there.
There are two white envelope on the bed next to mine and plans for next weekend, partially in writing and partially in my head. And a choice.
But whatever I choose, whichever white envelope I finally hold tight in the palms of my hands and my pink fingertips turn white and I say, yes,
I will be alone.

In my bed this morning, thinking about these sweet hours I have to myself today, I wasn't scared. I wasn't scared of the days I will have alone. I've never been afraid of being alone. But there was a tug. The slightest pull on the edge of my heart. I'm not scared of being alone.
But I'm just a little scared of loneliness.
Loneliness. I whispered that fear out loud to myself this morning while my family was loud as they always are.
I'm scared of being lonely.

I've never been good at making friends. I don't think I ever will be, but that's not always a bad thing. Loneliness is not always a lack of friends. I like to be alone sometimes. I like those moments that are quiet havens full of me and the presence of a carpenter I love.
I like to be alone. I thought that this morning.
And then I thought,
Can I ever really be lonely with Him here?

And the tug, the nipping at the corner of that heart inside my chest, it just disappeared. And I'm not scared anymore. Because even though I didn't audibly hear the words, I felt them.

You are never alone.