On loneliness.

Whenever I feel lonely – and I feel this way often – I am overwhelmed by a sense of guilt because I how can I be lonely when I have amazing friends and a wonderful family? I have people who actually love me, who reach out, who are there for me without me having to ask them.

And yet, it could be when I wake up or when I’m in the train or when I’m coming home after work or when I have dinner by myself or when I lie in bed, tired, but awake. It could be at some random moment. But I’ll feel this deep loneliness that sometimes feels like physical pain.

And as silly and embarrassing as it is, this loneliness stems not from a lack of friends or family. It stems from a lack of romantic relationships.

That’s the truth. As much as I am okay most of the time about being alone, there are moments that take me off guard and make me hate myself for not being able to be enough for anyone.

And before you come at me with your plenty of fish in the sea or it will happen at the right time nonsense, zip it.

You don’t know what it’s like to be the only person in the room who doesn’t hit it off with anyone. You don’t know what it’s like to never be the person other people choose. No one wants your company. No one thinks you are worth their time. No one asks you out. No one falls for you.

When other people complain about being lonely, you listen to them. And you tell yourself that your feelings are not as important as you think they are because hey, everyone is lonely, aren’t they? But then these people find people who love them and want to spend time with them and you realise that as they go through partners and the years go by, you’ve always been by yourself.

So you pretend that you are way too stubborn and independent and busy for a relationship. You claim to be way too old to be going on dates. You say you don’t even bother with expectations because you have commitment issues. You convince yourself that you are fine.

And you are. For the most part.

But then there’s always this moment when that guard falls apart. When you stand there, naked, your loneliness exposed.

So you occupy yourself with other things. You eat. You drink. You sleep. You work. And sometimes, when no one’s around, you cry. You let it out.

 

And sometimes, you write. You pour your feelings onto a page and hope no one reads it. But you still put it up somewhere, in hopes someone does read it.

 

This post comes not only from loneliness though. It doesn’t come from sadness alone. Tonight, it also comes from the memory of something that was so incredibly good even though it was a fleeting moment years ago.

It’s weird how you go about your day, completely lost in the present, when someone from the past comes back to haunt you… or, in this case, remind you that once upon a time, you felt all the feelings you crave now.

Someone wanted you. Someone wanted to spend time with you. They made time for you. They made you feel like the centre of the fucking universe.

Of course, they also broke your heart. They gave you so much in such a short time and then took it all away. And sure, you still carry that pain with you, as pathetic as that is (because let’s be honest, they don’t even remember you) but you also treasure those amazing moments you shared. You wrap them in silk. Lock them away in a wooden box. Hide the key somewhere.

And when things get really bad, when the loneliness is unbearable, when it hurts to breathe, to pretend everything is okay, you take those memories in your palm and you relive them until you can stand on your feet again. Until your hands stop shaking. Until you know you can get through this moment.

And you know you are okay, that you’ll be okay, when the truth about those moments comes back to you. The pretending. The lying. The deceit. These things you tell yourself they did because you cannot bear the thought of getting your hopes up. Of expecting the same out of someone else. You can’t afford to be that vulnerable again.

All I want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door

'Cause if I could see your face once more

I could die a happy man I'm sure