Things I Romanticize to Avoid Feeling Lonely

Because pretending something is beautiful feels easier than admitting it hurts.

sometimes, when i feel lonely, i don’t call it that.
i just light a candle and sit there like it means something.
i pour tea like I’m in a scene from a film no one’s watching.
and i scroll through songs that make me feel understood — even if no one else does.

I’ve started noticing how often i turn silence into something soft.
how i dress it up in tiny rituals and act like it’s enough.

i romanticize walks.

especially the kind where i don’t really need to be anywhere.
i take the long way home even when it’s hot or my shoes hurt.
and i’ll tell myself i like the quiet
but really, i just don’t want to open the door to an empty room.

i romanticize strangers.

like the boy at the bakery who looked up at the same time i did.
or the woman who complimented my earrings in line for coffee.
they stay in my head longer than they should.
and sometimes, it’s not even about them.
it’s about how rare it feels to be noticed.

i romanticize unread books.

the ones sitting on my shelf with folded pages and dust.
they make me feel less alone like something’s still waiting for me.
like maybe i haven’t been forgotten.

i romanticize pain.

sometimes i call it depth or growth or a turning point.
but a lot of the time, it’s just… pain.
and i don’t know what to do with it.
so i write.
or light another candle.
or imagine someone is thinking of me when they’re not.

some days, this pretending works.

i feel like maybe it’s okay to be this soft.
to need this much.
to turn loneliness into a story i can live with.

other days, i wish i didn’t have to try so hard to make it look beautiful.
but i do it anyway.

if you do this too —

if you give your loneliness pretty names and soft habits
i hope you know it doesn’t make you dramatic.
it makes you human.
and maybe a little tender.

and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.