Some nights I come home and I think about how much I want someone else here, but a thought is all it ever is. At this point my loneliness is just a habitual thought. The thought arises, I notice I feel lonely, I notice this makes me sad, and I do nothing more until the feeling goes away through either sleep or distraction.
I complain about being alone, mostly internally, but I rarely take any action to ameliorate the situation. Loneliness is comfortable for me, and that’s why it is so dangerous.