Dear myself,

We never do really feel lonely, don't we? Maybe it's because that we never are the one to care. Maybe it's because we are insensitive to what we truly feel. Maybe because we don't ever truly realize that we are, in fact, lonely. What we don't know won't hurt us, but when we do know...

I remember that time when grandma died. She looked like she was asleep, but we knew that she never would wake up anymore. Remember that hole in our heart that was created right on that time? Remember we asked 'why'? Remember how we regretted that we didn't go to meet her one last time? That time, our time of waiting for her stories ceased to exist and how we cried in the back of that car... And each time before sleeping, we prayed that we dreamt a little dream of her... Just a little dream of her.

Maybe we were too small back then, to feel the enormous loss. Maybe the word 'lonely' never encountered us in such a young age. But we did feel that hollow feeling in our heart.

Remember Oscar? That little dog that we used to dislike because our heart belonged to the older dog, Lexsy? That little dog that we learnt to love after Lexsy disappeared? That little dog that lived with us for six long years, before it disappeared as well, like Lexsy did? Remember that we cried our eyes out?

That time we had understood perfectly what it meant to be lonely.

That time also, the hole in our heart grew. Maybe even more that we had expected.

Sometimes we do forget that we are lonely. And then... we don't feel so lonely.

But... if you let your mind think, and let your heart feel...

Maybe it's good.

Because we're not numb yet.

But, dear myself... loneliness is such a painful thing.