I’ve sat alone with myself many nights. At first, I must admit it was terrifying. I hadn’t been truly alone in my life ever. There had always been times I was alone surrounded by people, and in my own home. But then I realized something after a while. The only reason we fear being alone is because we fear ourselves.

What a more breathtaking enemy then the one that lives inside you. How mortifying our thoughts, how disgusting our true nature. That must be where madness comes from. I know I’ve dipped slightly into it before. I’ve never known how to turn it off.

I relish in my madness. It makes me understand myself deeper. It helps me understand why I do the things I do. It relinquishes me of my pain, after forcing me to feel it.

How alarming it must be to have to sit in silence, alone, and speak only with yourself. I know I’ve had to fight with her often and hear things that I do not wish to hear. But we’ve gotten to know each other well. I’ve come to love her, in all her flaws, and praise the mistakes as lessons, the hurt as strength, and the heartache as fuel.