Sixty Three

Posted on March 3, 2009

8


Loneliness is a strange thing.

It’s a discovery. A recognition.
Like learning an appropriate, ‘aha!’ word like “deja vu”, and understanding exactly what it means.

And I too, one day, discovered it. Realized it was there. And understood that it had always been.
There has been no stop to looking back.
My silent stalker.

On days, we are close. I can hear its breathing, and feel its pulse under my skin. Slow. Slowing down time. Giving me more hours to kill.

The things I have done to add interruptions and full-stops to our conversations.
To put distance between us.

A job. Knitting classes. Schedules and deadlines. Music that blares in my ears. Books that turn the pages of my mind. Movies that make my eyes run. Hobbies. A taste for alcohol. Marriage. Love.

But nothing can hide or change the fact that I am alone.
With my loneliness.

I think I’d liken it to a shadow.
Not always an absolute. Never a solid black. Can’t really call it a white.
It’s not ever really absent. I never rid of it – you can always trace it back to my feet.
Sometimes, it’s only just me, other times, it’s many me’s, depending on where I’m seeing it from.

It grows longer over the day.
It’s the longest, before night.

And I decided, I would put my loneliness out for good. Turn off the light. Kill the shadow.
So, I ended it all. I turned in.

But loneliness is a strange thing.

It’s followed me into the afterlife.
And now, I have all of eternity to spend with it.

Posted in: Prose