What is it like to be in solitary confinement?

There is no one around us to listen to your thoughts, no one except you and the definition of who I even am. The idea of “other” becomes blurred with self-concept and talking to the walls seems just as relieving or “entertaining” as the idea of ever getting out. Getting out of these walls was the only thing that really mattered, at first, but now the idea of time and the outside appear as curious and impossible as forever.  

But then, it all becomes real. This pain is real. The torture of not knowing what is happening out there takes a hold of you. We attempt to move through this physical space, as our restless inner mind attempts to express itself outwardly, to another realm, to this realm of communication. These curious frustrations throw tantrums your way, and your heart churns with your stomach, hungry for something other than the maddening silence of nothingness.  

Solitary confinement is rarely a choice. If it were a choice, things would be a lot more comfortable. When isolation is forced, it is the epitome of a mangled heart, a frustrated mind, and the outbursts of love dropping to the floor with no-one to pick us up. It is like having the key- the “curiosity seeker” but with no door to open, no lock to match, no “other” to relate to. Just the walls of silence, like a stone looking back at you without a reply, after asking it a billion times before which color it likes the most, and what it likes to eat for breakfast. The solitary confinement of a rock, in its perfect reflection of the void, just doesn’t seem to give. No matter how hard I try, the rock just won’t speak.  

Until madness kicks in. The same madness that got me into this solitary space, the same colorful palette I had known from centuries ago. Finally, the rock begins to speak. It speaks of my imagination, and just then, I am released from it all. You are my imagination let loose, you, the human I had dreamt to relate with, are real. 

Solitary confinement will seem like eternity, as the days blur together, and the seconds pass us by like hours. Eventually the only thing looking forward to is a dream to escape to. The physical constraints of the walls are just a metaphor for love left hopeless. Just remember, someone else is imagining you as well, and their walls for hello are also coming down. Calming down. Dreaming.