Freedom or Loneliness

How do you call it when you have the liberty to do anything that you want. Freedom or loneliness?

In the night, when there's no one there to hug you when your body is trembling negatively submerged on anxiety. The weekends when you're free and you want to cuddle with someone and watch a movie, but there's no one there. And let's say that there was somebody at once, but he left, and now you are not sure that if there's somebody he's going to stay forever. However, you want him to stay forever because you are so tired of all the fake words and crap coming from passing loves, things of a week, a month, three or just one night. Is it freedom? Is it loneliness? When your tears fall without ceasing and you feel submerged, drowning on them, or when you wake up in the middle of the night, gasping, because you had a bad dream, but there's nobody else there to hug you and tell you everything is going to be okay. Every time that you reach a goal, is there someone there to celebrate it with you?

Or are you there to celebrate somebody's reached goal and congratulate him/her. Do you really feel so excited of sharing your body with a foreign man who is not going to be there when you wake up? Or a woman? With somebody that has other person in his mind when he is "making love" with you, if we can call it like that. And when your own mind is tricking you, making you think that you are nothing, convincing you that you shouldn't be alive, and you can't find a way to shut it up, so you think that the only way of shutting it off is to kill yourself, because there's nothing else, no heaven or hell. Then, you turn up the music and make it go as loud as possible to not hear your own wicked consciousness. Honestly, it makes me laugh mockingly, to think that all this time I've been calling these loads of shits liberty, when they were really nothing. 

When I almost cried because I felt so empty that I confused myself with a zombie, a feather flying in the wind without a direction, just letting the wind take it anywhere. And when I still feeling empty and light like a feather in the wind. If this is freedom... I rather be in the jail of what people call love, than tortured to death in this "freedom".