Compounded Loneliness


“In all languages in the world, there is the same proverb: “What the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.” Well, I say that there isn’t an ounce of truth in it. The further off they are, the closer to the heart are all those feelings that we try to repress and forget. If we’re in exile, we want to store away every tiny memory of our roots. If we’re far from the person we love, everyone we pass in the street reminds us of them. “

– Eleven Minutes by P.Coelho


I am allowed to take it back. I am lonely. And no matter how hard I try to stop myself from quoting Britney, I can’t help it, “My loneliness is killing me.” Sometimes, I find myself staring at nothing because I feel this emptiness, the kind of emptiness that you can’t figure out. Emptiness that roots from nothingness is the hardest to cure. It bugs you and it doesn’t stop. It’s the kind of loneliness that finds comfort in more loneliness. It’s compounded loneliness. This is the shit.


Don’t get me wrong, I am happy. I don’t know how but experience has taught me that happiness and loneliness are, at times, not mutually exclusive. I argue with myself a lot, these are the kind of arguments that lead to moments that necessitate writing. These are arguments that are unwinnable because in the end, I both win and lose. I get this a lot, situations that make me win and lose at the same time. It could be triggered by the simplest of moments, like a silly conversation. It gets tiring. Being in an emotional limbo is the equivalent of lying on your bed all day, with nothing to do but think of what you could be doing instead but at the same time being thankful that you are there, on your bed, doing nothing. It’s like running on a treadmill that brings you to hell and back in a matter of seconds, minutes, hours and a lifetime.


So, let me get back to this loneliness, this emptiness, this nagging feeling that things should be better. All triggered by one moment... a moment that started out happily. I know I shouldn’t even be thinking about it… yet I am. How do we go back to before? How do we make things right? How do we start anew? How –


Then I am disrupted by this realization. This isn’t stemming from nothing because in the third paragraph of this supposed entry on nothingness,

#Last night, I thought of you - of how I have voluntarily prevented myself from living because I was waiting for you to live my dream, too. I have allowed myself to feel nothing because I want to feel everything with the idea of you. You were nothing until you became something, something that needed to be true.

I hate waiting. But remember that I waited for you and I would’ve waited with you… despite this compounded loneliness that you have inadvertently inflicted on me. With or without demand, I have paid. I take it back. I am lonely… and if you are too, and if by any chance you are just pretending, let me know. Maybe, just maybe, we can stop pretending… lose nothing and win everything.
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