#i17-0 35 24 23 40 47 8 23 28 35 47 0Once, he had a normal name — one spoken easily, remembered by many.
He grew up surrounded by people, laughter, noise… but somehow,
none of it ever truly reached him.
It wasn’t that he was unwanted — in fact, he was often admired.
But every connection felt surface-level, like watching life through glass.
As time passed, he began to withdraw — not out of pain, but out of understanding.
He realised something others didn’t being alone didn’t have to mean being lonely.
While others feared silence, he found clarity in it. In quiet moments,
they could hear their own thoughts without distortion. He learned to sit with himself,
to understand his emotions, to find comfort without depending on anyone else.
People started to notice the change.
Though he spoke less, his words carried more weight.
He disappeared often, yet never seemed lost.
Some called him distant. Others thought he was cold.
But those who truly understood saw something different — someone
who had mastered the rare ability to be complete on their own.
The name solitudinous wasn’t given as an insult.
It was chosen.
A reminder that he was not alone because he had nothing, no not at all.
But because he had finally found everything within himself.
