failure, I believe, is one of the components that make up loneliness.

you can be alone, and feel worthwhile, feel satisfied with your self,
but when you feel lonely, you sense there is something off.

I doubt that many of us admit that we think the loneliness we feel may be our own fault, but I also believe that is part of the pain; the sheer disbelief that we are causing our own pain.

 Despite the fact that we can blame someone for leaving us here alone to fend with the shadow of the wolf who carves out our insides when no one is watching our life as their cherished screen,  even when we do not screctly know that we are the cause for alienation of friends and loved ones, of distance, sometimes the filure comes simply with the fact that we let our selves feel lonely-- that we let ourselves be weak.

we indulge in our weakness. That next chocolate you can't resist, even though you know the 12 grams of fat it contains per serving. You think, quietly, so you don't hear yourself, and thus don't have to admit it to anyone, "I deserve to feel lonely. I deserve to live in the cave for awhile until someone rescues me."

I will contest, there are less selfish modes of loneliness-- pure uttered {cries} of the soul for companion, but more often than not, the kind of loneliness we experience, I believe, is the one I have been describing: the loneliness of the stubborn.

To be free is to admit that you cause your own suffering; that duka can be overcome. But who of us that is stubborn will admit such a thing?

There the challenge lies.