“The Loneliness Comes In Waves”

The loneliness sometimes creeps back in, threatening like a storm approaching. But the strength of the storm depends on my reaction to the first rain drops, my perception of the clouds, the anticipation of what is to come. Lately, it monsoons on some days, then transforms to drizzle on others.
How can I stop the rain when I’ve become so accustomed to its presence? Why can’t I accept the sunshine behind the clouds until it hits me in such a way that it’s ecstasy? Everything affects us, so why do I continue to accept what hurts me and avoid what heals me? Why is darkness comforting but light frightening?