First things first: Let's rip off the band-aid. I'm transgender—female to male—and have been passing for a little over a year now. If you're unfamiliar with the term "passing," it simply means that I resemble the gender that I feel is most right for me. In this case, I look like a male and no one questions that I am one. Mostly this is an excellent thing because I have been wanting this for many years and finally I don't have to deal with people mistaking me for a woman. It's awesome.
Loneliness never provided a sensation. When I walked alone, it was usual and quite ordinary. Like wearing another layer of skin, I didn't mind it and often it kept me warm from the vile chill from the rest of the world. As a kid, it was second nature and as an adult, it's the Snuggie I crawl into when my hatred of humanity reaches its pinnacle. There are those times, however, where loneliness is excruciating.