Behind the Words: Writing The Lonely Hours

When I started writing The Lonely Hours, I wanted to create something that perfectly captured the mood of longing. Growing up in a large household, I often felt lonely despite the noise and people around me. I was a moody child, plagued by terrible anxiety and depression. My mind was always racing, overthinking, and spiraling into itself. As a teenager, those feelings intensified—until I discovered poetry.

Poetry became my lifeline. It was an escape, a way to make sense of my emotions and regain a sense of control. Writing allowed me to express my secrets, whether through metaphor or blunt honesty. I’d been wanting to write The Lonely Hours for quite some time, and after publishing Meet Me at the End of the World, it felt like the perfect follow-up.

The Lonely Hours is an amalgamation of sorrow and introspection—a deep dive into the thoughts that creep in at 2 a.m. I structured the book into six sections to tell a story: Lost in Lust, Hopelessly in Love, Heartbreak and Destruction (with a Little Bit of Delusion), Then I Started Hating Myself, Living in a Fantasy, and finally, Maybe I’ll Try Loving Myself. Each section reflects a chapter of my emotional journey.

Lost in Lust

This section explores all the times I mistook lust for love. These are the thoughts that still haunt me: Why was I so foolish? Why did I put myself through that? Many of us spiral over our past mistakes, but it’s part of the human experience. We learn. We grow. And hopefully, we eventually find love.

Hopelessly in Love

This section romanticizes love in all its forms. In my early twenties, I believed finding “the one” would be magical and transformative. I thought love would erase my problems and fill every void. And yes, I did fall in love. It was beautiful, but it was also complex.

Looking back, I’d tell my younger self to let go of the fantasy and stop trying to turn men who weren’t worth it into something they could never be. True love is about finding someone who keeps their promises, who shows up for you, and who is on your team. That’s the kind of person you marry.

Heartbreak and Destruction (with a Little Bit of Delusion)

This section is a tribute to all the times love failed me—and to all the times I let myself believe the pain was worth it. It also reflects moments of delusion, where I clung to false hope or convinced myself that heartbreak was just part of the journey. These poems explore the ways we trick ourselves into thinking the pain is noble or necessary, even when it’s destructive.

Then I Started Hating Myself

This section dives into the late-night spirals of self-doubt: Am I good enough? Will I ever be okay? Is this all there is? It’s an honest reflection of how easy it is to lose yourself in regret and self-criticism. These are the thoughts that haunt me the most at 2 a.m., the ones that make you question everything and leave you feeling hollow.

Living in a Fantasy

This section is an ode to escapism. I’ve always found comfort in distraction and daydreaming about what could be. Sometimes fantasy feels safer than reality. These poems reflect the pull of what-if scenarios and the delicate balance between dreaming and living in the present. While it’s beautiful to imagine, the danger lies in staying there too long.

Maybe I’ll Try Loving Myself

The final section, Maybe I’ll Try Loving Myself, is about hope. It’s a soft whisper to the part of me that’s tired of fighting, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there’s still a chance for light. This section is about forgiving myself—for the mistakes I’ve made, the love I’ve wasted, and the moments I’ve doubted my worth.

These poems are gentle but honest. They don’t promise perfection or a sudden transformation, but they offer the possibility of healing. They remind me (and, I hope, others) that self-love isn’t about being flawless; it’s about choosing to care for yourself despite the flaws.

This section reflects the ultimate lesson of The Lonely Hours: that while we can’t escape our pain, we can learn to live with it, and eventually, to love ourselves in the process. It’s a reminder that we’re all works in progress, and that’s okay.

A Cry for Help and a Cure for the Lonely Heart

At its core, The Lonely Hours was written for myself. Like most of my poetry, it’s deeply personal, but I hope it resonates with others. I hope it speaks to anyone who’s battled their intrusive thoughts and questioned their worth.

The Lonely Hours is both a cry for help and a revelation—a reminder that no matter how overwhelming those late-night thoughts feel, they don’t have to win. It’s about finding strength in vulnerability and realizing that even in the darkest hours, there’s hope.

If this resonates with you, you can purchase The Lonely Hours on Amazon. Let’s face the lonely hours together.