It's Kind Of Sad.I spent all my life knowing I could never open up to other people, and since I was young I had to settle with the only choice left- talking to myself.
It started out as small things. Like, commenting on my own appearance, pointing little things out, making up funny jokes that my friends and my brother would laugh to. The sound of my own voice felt familiar to my ears, like I didn't have to pay attention and have to create a response. It filled the empty, silent gaps in my life.
I never really realized what I was doing at first. I thought I was just bored and saying stuff to myself was just a filler. It wasn't until maybe 2 or 3 years ago that I finally came to terms with myself and admitted it- I was lonely.
Ever since then I had pretended someone was always there, some that I idealized as my "listener"- the one person that would accept me for who I was, compliment me, reassure me, truly love me for who I was. I would have conversations that went until late at night and when I woke up, I would say things like "Oh, woke up before me again, eh?" and I would stare lovingly into eyes that didn't exist.
To this day I still do this. There are very few times that I let myself realize once again that I'm really, just alone.