Okay, I live in a sketch neighborhood, I get that. No big deal. I'm coping, and when I'm outside I meet the world like a self-assured human who is at least moderately secure in the bounds of society protecting me. It works out, there are people outside that are mostly all friendly, I have a neighbor who is awesome and my favorite homeless guy, Carl.
"What are you going to do today Carl?" "I'm going to go panhandle a bit, then come back here for dinner." Awesome.
And it's not that the people here are bad, everyone seems pretty legit and non-murderfacey.
It's not when I'm alone. I get over that, I fill my time with optimizations and rules and ice cream and spaghetti out of a can. It's just how alone I feel when I about to go to sleep. When I crawled into bed and she turned over and grabbed me around the shoulders and chest as tight as she could, that is what safety felt like to me. Being held its what security meant to me.
And now I feel unsafe, unheld, untouched, insecure. Untouched, unloved. I miss her so much. Fucking hell.