How Much Alone

Sometimes the ever silence echoes. Startles you in as much as you allow anything to startle you. While you thrive in solitude the realist in you wonders, on occasion, how much alone is too much. You think, most likely, no amount. The opposite of alone is unfathomable. For true. You are too selfish to give it up. But in the spirit of a quiet moment, you must admit that on that rarest occasion it might be advisable to share that aloneness. You won't, though, perhaps out of fear she will take too much of it. For really there is not too much of it. Only just enough. There is just enough for you. The selfish you. It seems that is all that sates you. You require it. It sustains you. Only it. Why would a reasonable man risk losing that? Why, indeed. It seems a thing worthy of discussion. And so you roll it around. Think on it. And you have your one-sided discussion. And you polish what you do not learn and think on it some more. Utterly convinced it is not always selfish to be selfish. Not always.

How much alone.

How much alone.