How to fight loneliness

So there is a thing: its called loneliness, and it attacks the moment you think it won't. I've built my guard up, I've reasoned with it. I've given it the cold shoulder and told it to fuck off. But tonight: tonight at four AM and he's calling a cab and literally, as he's on the phone, giving my street address so he can be picked up: it's starts to rain. And then: pour. And I'm wearing a robe and not knowing how I should act. Because typically, this isn't a problem. But when a man goes out of his way to get away from me (when I know it's not a big deal, we've talked about it, we know this doesn't mean anything), it feels like a big deal. Its a blow.

I'm listening to the rain right this second and knowing that he'd rather be stranded in it than spend any longer next to me.

And this is why: this is why I keep my guard up. This is why I don't believe that you care what I say or the things I do. It's because I know: you are cheating on your girlfriend. I've never been that girl. Well, that I know. As we were lying in a state of undress, he told me I have someone.

Isn't there always someone? Or something? I'm used to the something. I'm used to men not really being interested, and me telling myself that its not me, its them. That I'm plenty interesting. That my guard, my anger, my bitterness- its refreshing. Men aren't used to dealing with such a mistrustful nutcase. It makes sense.

But tonight. Tonight validates it all. Everything is justified. Because we're in my bed, and he says I have a girlfriend. (And the thing is, we're not talking about girlfriends, secrets, bad behavior. We're just ...talking.)

So I'm just an [the] other woman. Another person he left. And her? I'm sick thinking about it. She is just another person he did this to, without much thought until it was a done deal. I felt bad for her, but worse for me. For my loneliness. For me knowing that I would still allow him to sleep next to me, even if I didn't let him touch me.

This human sadness. This humanity. It's such a divide. I keep telling myself that I'm okay with all of this, that I'm not that interested, but tonight, tonight I got a wake up call. Tonight. I'm usable. I'm dispensable.

And while he meant nothing to me, while I wasn't interested in knowing him all that well or having some kind of meaningful connection, I'm still awake. I'm still awake. Most people are just now waking up. And I can't sleep. I can't sleep over this insignificance.