Loneliness, Is Such a Sad Affair.
The first way is loneliness as a situation, an event, a circumstance. A sad way of being, a literal affair. And the you, in question, is speaking to loneliness itself. It is an addiction to being lonely: one has gotten so used to being alone that they yearn to feel lonely, just to feel something.
The second way is loneliness as an entanglement, an illicit romance. A cheating act not committed by action but rather by thought. And the you, in question, is a secret lover, while the speaker is in a lonely relationship.
The third way, maybe, is less literal: having an affair with loneliness. Flirting with it, seeking the thrill of feeling like a tortured, troubled soul, chasing fulfillment and connection in the wrong places. When, in reality, you might not even be that lonely.
It is paradoxical, because an affair is intimate, and loneliness is quite the opposite. Yet this suggests that loneliness is intimate too, but only with yourself. In the absence of others, you are in a secret relationship with your own longing. You hide the affair of loneliness both in a crowded room and when you are alone. It is paradoxical because an affair is a choice, while loneliness is often beyond one’s control, and yet in this sense you are willingly stepping into a tango of two.
I have never felt as alone as when I’m not alone. There is no loneliness like the kind that comes from being seen and still unseen.