Sometimes she needed to be alone to be free. The trouble was, loneliness was her own personal demon. She was her own personal demon. She craved it like a drug, but once she got it she let it tear her apart. Once she was shredded to nothing she would surrender and let others use her. It made her feel whole again, but people are selfish. Once she gave them what they wanted, they left her until they needed her again. And when they left, she was just as torn as she had been before, maybe even more so if that was even possible.
She needed to learn to sit with her demons. To hug and caress them. She needed to tell them that although she accepted them for what they are, they could no longer run her life. She could no longer let others use her.
Be lonely, be imperfect, be a mess. Accept it and then move on because in the end it would always be she who was left there when everyone else had moved on. It would always be up to her to be happy.