strangest bit of feeling alone.
i let it keep going to know how some may feel.
so often am by myself but never feel alone, the down in the mouth depression of being left to yourself.
there is less pain, no headache and a strange hole where all that throbbing normally sits.
sound is only voices, time is something that crawls.
i breathe and it goes deeper, past the realm of sighs.

old men’s crew socks pulled up and folded over, black ankle braces wrapped tight; the hope is that the toes will be less numb.
resting on my back, the room is far too white–only thing worse would be institutional green.
netbook resting on my chest, warming skin and bones as i try to explain…

it is never about groups and the need for others.
is about responsibility.
i think others are curious what you do when alone.
they think what might a person be like since they are not accountable to anyone.
no meals must be fixed, no housework must be done.
must does not exist.
so there is a curiosity, a willingness to see the lone person as an oddity.
there is also jealousy.
you would only be truly thought of and liked if you fell in the same soup as everyone else.
i think when my parents died i was alone.
it never changed.

when i can at least relate to people like j
like len like you
your attention and remarks are a part of this internet understanding. we all have in common a need to think,
before we speak. the dedication and time spent feels like a waste sometimes. but usually it is better to learn, to keep working to understand — like living in a library 24/7.

i loved the smell of the books. the enforced hush.
now i love the feel of a tablet in my hands,
the connection that is so frail and yet strong enough to keep wishful thinking awake.

i would say it is painful being alone, but that is not the part that hurts. i’m not even sure that anything hurts. no one wants to be in the same boat with me, but i hate being captain. to either rule or take orders. part of being with others rarely translates into freedom to pursue your own desires.

do i hate being alone? i hate that it makes me a social oddity. i hate that it means i am strong.


2 Replies to “withdrawn”

  1. I think you have hit upon an important distinction: there is a big difference between being “lonely” and “being alone”. And I think you’re right that so many are/would be jealous of having so much “me time” to do what you want to do. Being “odd” isn’t all bad, as you know, but I understand being on the outside looking in, so to speak, and wondering what life is like for those who aren’t labeled “different”. Having never been part of any “in crowd”, I couldn’t tell you what it’s like, but I imagine they go through the same questions, only from the opposite view, like, “I wonder what it’s like to have the freedom to do what you want to do and not have to conform to what everyone expects or wants?” Like you said, “the freedom to pursue your own desires”. Strong is hard, no doubt about that. I used to wonder why I was being “tested” by God/The Universe, asking “What in the world do I need to be so strong FOR?” But now I don’t ask that anymore. I just take things one day at a time and rely on that strength when I need it, not caught up in the whys it has to be this way. I hope your sense of alone-ness fades soon, E. 🙂 *Hugs*

    1. i hope it does, too. maybe it’s the downtime after all the holiday stuff? i joke that my ghosts must be on vacation. normally i keep busy and don’t even think about the alone time. i think if you are a lonely person, that doesn’t change when other people are around. it is a state of being, and i guess i still remember my grandma stating, “you’re not going to help anything by feeling sorry for yourself. ” i wonder or have wondered what in heaven’s name must be ahead that would need so much strength, or maybe it’s tenacity. but that saying “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” always made me laugh — because you do end up on the very far side of that equation, wondering what destiny has in store. and then all keys into purpose … maybe finding purpose or having purpose is the root of things.

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