No, I couldn't be happier
Though it is, I admit
The tiniest bit
Unlike I anticipated
But I couldn't be happier
Simply couldn't be happier
Well - not "simply":
'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will[...]
-Excerpt from Wicked's “Thank Goodness.”
I'm lonely.
I'm not sure why but I'm just lonely. Usually I thrive in my alone time. Usually it makes me feel revitalized. Usually it breathes life into my creativity. Like a breath of wind in my sails. Usually being alone gives me a feeling of homeostasis and the discombobulated feeling of belonging. But I guess usually isn't always because lately I feel every lonesome moment weighing heavily on my shoulders.
I wake up in the morning, every morning, with purpose. But neither going to work nor going to class is much like leaving the house at all. I've mastered the art of invisibility. I can go whole days without making eye contact, laughing, speaking a single word. It's my way, I suppose, of controlling my surroundings. But as a child adults are always warning you that sometimes there can be “too much of a good thing.”
I haven't talked to anyone in days. That is to say-- I've spoken to a few errant friends but not actually talked. The pleasantries were exchanged and as if following the beat of the same drum faded out into quietness. I can't explain it. A few weeks ago there were too may draws for my time and attention. Now it's like none at all.
So I'm left here to sit quietly and wonder. When will the silence be broken?
Silence, like so many other things in life, is only ever a good think when you can convince yourself that you want it. Nobody likes being forced to read a book. Nobody likes being forced to eat healthily. Nobody likes being forced to go to work every morning. But if we can give ourselves the impression that we want to read that book, eat that carrot, do our job then all of a sudden it becomes a source of pleasure instead of becoming irksome. But when you don't want it... or aren't trying to create it silence can be rather disheartening.
This time next week I won't feel lonely. I'll feel glad from the solace from humanity. I almost always do. I usually do. I wonder why though. Why is it that I've always enjoyed being on my own so much more than being with another person? Why is it that all of a sudden I'm not sure that's what I want at all?
I suppose I'll just have to be content to wonder.
-LLK
