I am from loneliness.

I am from teddy bears,

from Build-a-Bear Workshops and cotton stuffing.

I am from the hillside top filled with luscious greenery and luxurious dining tables, from small backyards and large fences with no people around it.

I am from loneliness.

I am from the gray storm clouds of unhappiness, and the darkness of a never-ending night with no moon.

I am from being thrown in the air by my long-gone dad, and courage, from the constellation of my name

I am from loneliness.

I am from the Everything Will Be Okay philosophy, and the Nothing’s Wrong lie.

I am from “trust no one” to “everyone is your enemy”.

I’m from the ending of humanity and the time of tribulations.

I am from loneliness.

I’m from a dead Chicago with bread and cereal.

From the plague that devoured my mom to the brave sacrifice that stole the life of my father.

I am from loneliness.

I am from the journey to find my kidnapped brother. I am from one of the last humans on earth. I am the leftover of the only humanity in the universe.

I am from loneliness.

I am from my brain’s snapshots of people I will never see again, from the album of my memory that holds the love of many. I am the last leaf on the dying tree, I am the trunk that is staying put and will not fall, I am the branch that holds the heavy weight of sadness.  

I am from loneliness.