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To practice my broken English...after years, when I look back, am I going to feel this like a baby talking？

loneliness is like a log bridge between cliffs. We fear, we suffer, but we must go across. Then, nothing on the other side. We look back, looking at the small log bridge, we look forward, another log bridge. we across time after times, in the end, nothing but the bridge. Do not know when and where, we get use to it, do not fear any more, feel pity for that bridge, we stopped, sit near by it. So much times we across it, so much times we ignore it, so much times we feel it, want get rid of it...our best friend always company us, uncountable days and nights. "Hi loneliness, not all by myself, I have you..."