growth

i spend much of my time alone, lately, and i think it’s both refreshing and terrifying. how much of self-sufficiency is just fear of being rejected? i text my friends, don’t hear back, wallow inside myself and take yet another nap. when i watch the bachelor alone in my basement, clutching a pillow like a lifeline, i wonder what i’ve become. the shadows and walls are more comfortable than actual faces. sometimes my tongue forgets how to form words. my small talk is rusty at best, stumbling over weather and pleasantries that i can’t bring myself to care about. other times, my brain runs like a stream, chasing itself as my mind works faster than my mouth. i have even started to listen to taylor swift. dear diary, i think i’m fucked. none of this resembles who i used to be, but i feel more comfortable than i have ever been. i could do this forever. i feel like i’m in a confessional booth, admitting that i have thrived in the last year and never want to leave the house again. is it wrong of me to grow when the world seems to shrink?