Loneliness: Poison and Cure

Loneliness is at once the poison and it's own cure.  Surprising and illogical, but also true.  The nights and days, everything in between are now awash in colors of singleness.  It is to cut the waters of the world in a different way.  To no longer be secure that I am okay, I have some sort of mooring.  Instead I am an escaped oragami ship sailing across the ocean, each day is at once better and worse then the previous. 
 
The poison was there:  Each day, in and out, the absence of communication, the essential reaffirming actions of creating words and passing them along.  Here in a foreign country, I felt just as lonely as I did when I was with the one I loved, maybe less so.  It really made no sense.  Finally, the light dawned that no, he is choosing someone else over me, every single day.  
 
The cure:  Carried the same venom as the poison, the silver bitterness swollowed whole and is there, in my belly.  Unmoored, yes, but not anchored either.  I can't explain the course of thought or actions that brought it about.  Only a moment when the whole world was about to collapse, and suddenly the wrong person, the wrong kind of person was there.  Or the right one.  Again, the paradox, the thing is itself and something different.  I can't seem to tell today which is which.