I was 19.
At the time, I was doing my DTS with YWAM.  I remember there were some days I would sob hard - sometimes uncontrollably - from how lonely I felt.  Then one of the books we were required to read, changed my perspective on something.  After that day, I never felt lonely again.

I still don't.
Feel lonely, that is.

But I do, absolutely, feel alone.

If I don't think about it, I'm not aware of it.
But then sometimes things happen that make me aware of how alone I truly am.

For example, there's an institute here that I have signed up with to occasionally do medical studies for.  Paid, thankfully.  All studies have questionnaires/surveys that are required.  The most recent study I did (and am technically still part of), had some questions about feeling/being alone.

And that's when I realised it.

I don't feel lonely.
I haven't since I was 19, and that was over 10 years ago.
I do, however, feel alone.

Why wouldn't I?
It's not just that I am physically alone most of the time (apart from my cat).
But it's also from everything else.

Growing up, sure, it was a full house with 8 people sharing 3 bedrooms.
But unless you were misbehaving, you were mostly ignored.  (I think. I don't really remember, because a lot of the time I definitely was not behaving, and therefore had attention on me, because I was being disciplined.)
And then it was being an adult, but still just not having a lot of attention (which I was fine with) or affection (which I am also used to).

And then you came along.
Someone who saw me; completely, my weirdness and quirks and all, and still somehow miraculously decided that he still liked spending time with me.  Which was such a foreign concept to me, because I was used to people running away once they saw who I really was.
And some time after that, you decided you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me.  I couldn't believe it.  Someone who knew me more/better than anyone in my life (including family) and decided he liked me enough to want to spend the rest of forever with me?  What a wild concept.  What an insane notion.  What a...(not yet recognized) dream come true.

Until you spent more time with me.

I never hid from you the fact that I was depressed, and struggled with severe depression.
In fact, I remember one time when it was super bad, and you couldn't comprehend it.  You took it personally, which made it that much worse for me.
I don't know what you thought, but it seemed as though you thought maybe it would magically get better after we got married.

It didn't.

Don't get me wrong.  It definitely did get better.  Before you, I'd wake up every day (and when I say every day, I mean literally every. day.) and my first thought upon waking was "I want to die."
Then you came along.  And suddenly?  Suddenly, that wasn't my first thought anymore.  I still was depressed, but you made things better.  Better enough to where "I want to die" wasn't my very first thought when I woke up.

But it never fully went away.  Why would it, when it's been with me over half my life?
So you knew.  You knew going into our marriage that I was depressed.
I thought you knew and you still chose me.  You still loved me.  You still wanted to be with me.
But I was wrong.  I knew I was wrong the day you told me that you didn't like being around me when I was depressed (which was basically all the time).  If that didn't solidify it, I knew the day you told me you didn't like having sex with me because I'm me.

And then one day you drove me to an appointment where I was supposed to get a shot in my neck.  On the drive, I thanked you for taking me.  You responded by telling me you would always be there for me.

...

And then two weeks later you announced you wanted to move to a new city.  Alone.  Without me.

And that's how I ended up where I am now.  In a city I never wanted to live.  Near family physically, which doesn't mean shit, because my family has basically never been able to be there for me, or give me what I need.  When I'm around them, I'm constantly on guard, because the past is too much history to overcome with suddenly trusting them now.

I still don't feel lonely.  Truth be told, I hadn't felt lonely since I was 19.  But then being married in my late 20's, I felt lonely again for the first time in my life.  More so than ever before.
And I don't feel lonely now, but I feel alone.

Because I am.

I have been abandoned by the person who made a vow to me before God and man, to spend the rest of his life with me for better or worse.  The man who told me he would always be there for me, then two weeks later told me he wanted to move to a different place alone.  The man who told me I was the love of his life, and while he could move forward if he ever lost me, admitted it wouldn't be easy, and then willingly made the choice to lose me by leaving me.

Tell me how I'm supposed to get over that.
Tell me how I'm supposed to make sense of that in my head, when vows and actions contradict each other to the most extreme levels.
Tell me how I'm supposed to get over the trauma of betrayal and broken trust.  Not just from my family growing up, but from the one person who was supposed to love me regardless of what life threw at us, was supposed to be by my side, was supposed to spend the rest of our shared lives together.

Until it got too hard.
Until he decided he liked being alone more than he liked the idea of spending the rest of his life with me.
Until he made the choice that I wasn't worth trying to get better for, trying to change for, and sees his choice as what's "best" for me.

He once told me that "other people aren't [him]" when it comes to his egregious belief that someone "better" will come along for me.
But that's where he's wrong.
Other people may not be him, but he is doing to me exactly what my family did to me growing up.

Showing me (by actions) that I'm not wanted.  That I'm not worth anything, despite me trying to be good and on my best behaviour.  That I am not worth making an effort for, to provide for me, give me the basic needs any human *needs* much less wants, which is time and affection.

So yeah, maybe other people aren't him.
But if the sum of my life experience has been that most [influential and significant] people in my life fail in the most basic of things, that doesn't mean much.  If anything, it proves to me that all people will fail me.  Fail to follow through, fail to keep their word, fail to be there for me, fail to want to keep me in their life.

Family (by blood) doesn't mean anything to me.

I am completely alone.

And now I know I always will be.