Are those who talk about loneliness truly lonely?

"I'm a lone wolf."

I have met many people who say this.

They don't flock, they don't fawn.
Only those who understand, understand.
They are aloof, lonely, and fine with not being understood.

However, at some point, I suddenly realized.
Perhaps those who talk about loneliness are actually the ones least able to endure it., I thought.

First, as a premise, there are two types of loneliness.

One is "physical loneliness."
Acting alone, spending a lot of time by oneself.

The other is "psychological loneliness."
Not having values shared, not having someone to connect with on a deep level.

These two seem similar, but they are completely different.

There are people who are physically alone but not psychologically lonely.
Conversely, there are people who are always surrounded by others but are psychologically lonely.

The problem is the latter.

While saying "I'm a lone wolf,"
there are people who are always hanging out with someone.

Despite claiming to be lonely,
they are always showing off their connections with others.

This seems contradictory, but structurally, it is actually consistent.

People who make loneliness their identity
try to create their own value by talking about "being lonely."

Not being understood = special
Not flocking = strong
Loneliness = a chosen existence

They hold this narrative within themselves.

But at the same time,
they are afraid of being truly lonely.

That is why they make companions.

While protecting themselves by talking about loneliness,
they desperately build a structure to avoid being lonely.

This discrepancy seeps through as a sense of discomfort.

Relationships of mutual indulgence

Around people who talk about loneliness,
for some reason, an atmosphere of "mutual consolation" tends to emerge.

"You are special."

There is no clash of true feelings, nor deep discussion there.

There is no friction of values,
just an exchange of reassurance.

However, ironically,
this structure makes it difficult to build trust.

Relationships that do not clash with true feelings
are safe, but shallow.

Shallow relationships do not fill the void of loneliness, even if there are many of them.

As a result,

there are people around, yet one is lonely.
Even though surrounded, one is not fulfilled.

This state is created.

This is the structure of "not being lonely in action, but lonely as a result."

On the other hand, there are people who do not talk about loneliness.

They do not call themselves a lone wolf.
They do not call themselves aloof.

They simply have clear values of their own,
and choose not to conform.

If necessary, they will also clash.
They also accept the possibility of not being liked.

As a result,
the moments of being alone definitely increase.

But that is not "staged loneliness."

It is isolation as a result of choice.
And the resolve to endure that isolation.

There is a decisive difference here.

People who talk about loneliness stage their loneliness.
People who do not talk about loneliness accept their loneliness.

The former protect themselves by putting "I am lonely" into words.
The latter can remain lonely without putting it into words.

Those who can truly endure loneliness
do not make loneliness their identity.

Because they know that it is not something special.

What is loneliness?

It is not "being alone."

It is taking responsibility for your own values.
It is not conforming.
It is accepting the possibility of not being understood.

Even so, it is standing on your own.

Loneliness is not a performance, but a state.
And a state seeps through even without being spoken of.

Every time I see someone who talks strongly about loneliness,
I suddenly think this.

Is that truly loneliness?
Or is it a narrative of loneliness?

And if it is a narrative,
that person is surely unable to endure loneliness.

Those who can truly endure loneliness
probably would not go out of their way to say such things.