Is loneliness a person, or just a feeling?

Loneliness… Sometimes, we try to give it a name. As if it were a person we could call upon, someone we could talk to, something we carry with us like an invisible presence. But is loneliness truly a person, or is it just a feeling that lingers within us? Is it a shadow that grows with absence, or is it an emptiness that echoes inside us?

Some kinds of loneliness exist even in crowds. You can be surrounded by people, lost in conversations, yet feel utterly alone. Laughter fills the air, voices overlap, but somewhere deep inside, you feel disconnected. It’s as if you’re watching yourself from a distance, participating in life but never truly being a part of it. Your eyes may smile, but your soul stays a step behind. Perhaps the deepest kind of loneliness is this—feeling unseen, unheard, and misunderstood even when you're not physically alone.

Then there is the kind of loneliness that thrives in silence. It settles in empty rooms, lingers in the cold touch of the walls. Hours pass, days blur into one another, and yet nothing truly changes. The phone stays silent, the doors remain closed, the world outside keeps moving while yours stands still. In these moments, loneliness doesn’t just feel like an emotion—it takes on a presence, as if it is something real, something tangible. Your eyes scan the room for a silhouette, a voice, a breath, a sign of existence. But there is nothing. Just you, and the silence.

But is loneliness truly just an absence? Or is it an addiction? Sometimes, we choose loneliness over company because the presence of others only magnifies the emptiness inside us. We build walls, not to keep others out, but to keep ourselves in. Loneliness becomes a familiar companion, one that we learn to live with until, one day, we can no longer imagine life without it.

Loneliness is sometimes a letter—one that remains unsent, with half-written sentences that never find their way to the right person. You want to say something, to express what lingers inside you, but the words never quite make it to where they need to go. So you write and erase, write and hide. You hope that one day, someone will read between the lines and understand. But deep down, you know—no one will. Because loneliness is not just being unheard; it is also knowing that there is no one truly listening.

Sometimes, loneliness is a song. A melody drifting through the air as you walk down a familiar street, a song you weren’t expecting to hear—one that suddenly drags you into the past. A memory hidden in the chords, a moment sealed in the lyrics. And suddenly, you realise that loneliness has been with you all along, more constant than any person ever was.

But loneliness grows the most at night. The thoughts we suppress during the day, the emotions we bury beneath distractions, all come to life when the world goes quiet. You lay your head on the pillow, and in the stillness, a whisper emerges from the darkness: “You're here. Alone. No one is thinking about you right now.” And so, you stare at the ceiling, listening to the sound of your own breathing, feeling the weight of an emptiness that no words can fill.

If loneliness were a person, what would you say to it?
Would you whisper “Leave.” or would you beg “Stay, because I have no one else.”?
Sometimes, we can’t even let go of our loneliness—because it is the only thing that has never left.

But what if loneliness is nothing more than a creation of our own minds? What if it only exists because we keep feeding it? Maybe, one day, if we learn to embrace the silence rather than fear it, loneliness will stop feeling like a person and fade into just a feeling—one that comes and goes, rather than one that stays forever.

But no matter what we do, some loneliness never leaves. Because some people can never be forgotten, some voids can never be filled, and some wounds never close. And on certain nights, no matter how hard you try to sleep, loneliness finds you.

And in that moment, even with your eyes closed, you can feel it:

“I'm here,” whispers loneliness. “With you, forever.”

With Love and Respect,

Burak Anaturk.

Burak Anaturk is a professional civil engineer. He focuses on sharing lessons from his life experiences, exploring diverse perspectives, and discussing personal development topics.
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