Grief can become a very lonely space. We fill our days with work, our nights with social gatherings, our weekends catching up. We may not recognize lonely because our time is filled and moves quickly. But it’s there. It’s a part of grief. It’s the solitary ache of what we once had. Most of us can admit we have experienced loneliness, but the impact of what loneliness does is far worse than just being alone.

Loneliness alters the ability to think rationally. We begin to seek connections to replace our negative feelings without the ability to understand if these connections are supportive and healthy.  Often, they are not. We form friendships, relationships, ideals to feel comforted, ignoring any signs that our actions are not in our own best interests. We see these new relations through a filtered light; these persons ‘take away our loneliness’ and we bring them in closer; we consider them family and that is okay. Until it isn’t.

Recently it has become evident that one of the people I have adopted as my own has betrayed me. Maybe that is a tad dramatic, but it is how I feel.  I have loved this person, cared for this person, been in their corner for years, cheering them on and supporting them in every aspect. They became a part of our family. Their recent choices are not in the best interest of anyone’s well being. They were selfishly made because they did not want to be lonely.

The choice was like a punch in the gut to me. I was reassured it was a short-term fix. I trusted that and have discovered this choice is more than that. This choice goes against the advice of family and friends. This choice has ripped apart the ideals, the roles, the hope I once had for this person. Their inability to tell me, to try to hide this choice from me, is a slap in the face.

I have spent sleepless nights going back and forth from how this happened to how did I not see this happen. The idea that this is the person I brought into our family, that I fought for when questioned why I was so close to them, is the same person who may now bring more pain to us, makes me want to throw up. In my grief, loneliness diluted my ability to fully comprehend if trust and transparency were part of our relationship. I had fooled myself to think that it was. Or maybe it once was. I will never understand how the choice made was one they had promised would never be and is now the only option they want.

Their poor decision has been made, and the consequences of their choice are heart breaking. Not for them just yet. No, their actions have masked the loneliness that brought this on. They relish in this new ‘lifeline’.  They have criticized or alienated anyone who might not agree.

I am left to sit at the sidelines and watch this happen. I listen to their new plans; I watch their distorted days. There is no healing, no moving forward, there is no awareness of the trouble about to come with this decision. There is no concern that those who truly care for them are in turmoil because of their actions. There is only the escape from their loneliness that is the encouragement to keep walking a path of destruction.

 Oh, loneliness, your ability to enter as a newfound friend, cuddling up to our grief and offering empty promises of better times…. how many lives have you ruined?