Someone to listen to me?

Here I am . Me, myself, I. While contentment can be felt when one is by oneself, sometimes I want nothing more than to be a we, us, our. I once thought I felt such belonging but, it proved futile and only ended in pain. Surrounding me is a sea of reminders of what I desire most. Friends, strangers, media. I cannot escape. My heart aches whenever I am reminded of it. Is it me? Must be. Change is the only option. Decrease the numbers I see. I am surrounded by happy zeros. Intellect is no longer sexy. But the desire to know why keeps me driven. I cannot throw my gift away. There must be some sort of median. Yet the method to attain what I desire and what I know is healthy are at war. To not consume, to consume only to return, lead to mental and physical illness. I’ve been there once and do not want to return. But nothing changes. I am still alone. I am still unhappy. I am still sitting here, crying myself to sleep so that no one knows, hiding. Waiting. Contemplating. Praying this gets resolved.