Loneliness
It’s never a fun thing to be left, nor to leave.
I’ve been in both situations. Among two people I spent almost a decade of time.
Trying to build something. Trying to make it work.
Pouring my entire being into making it successful, or getting to the consensus of working together.
Both eons of effort ended, and it was good that they did.
There is an inner stigma I face over the fact that they failed though, and blame is not the focus in principle here.
It is the fact that they stand as failures, and where I once dreamed of a certain time in my life that I would be married, and having that dream crumble into the ground twice.
There is a real fear of being ultimately alone.
I am fortunate to have friends, and to have rekindled friendships in the aftermath of these things. I am fortunate to have some time and distance away from them as well.
Fear approacheth….
There will always be fear as we are mortal, and though often ignorant of our own mortality, our subconscious never forgets the fact that it faces a clock, and it doesn’t know when it will stop ticking for us here.
To fear in this place is more than terrifying, it is the triple-distilled bastard of agony we call loneliness — the complex of it.
To fear that we will never be known immortally in love.
For at least to the hopeless romantic I am within I still believe and know that God is love, and all love that is holy, right, true, and good has its root in him.
I hear and read that we as a world live in one of the most connected, yet disconnected of times, and sometimes my soul moans over this, as I know a great many others do as well.
To this I have to wonder… for a desire to connect so deeply, to be so commonly held and even esteemed in some way shape or form, to be idealized even though now it is quite literally out of style due to social cynicism — why would people die still just to live with a moment of this?
I feel it is the hope of being known. The hope of being seen. The hope of being experienced without the looking glass that a title brings with it.
To be Aaron, rather than to be Aaron the writer, or Aaron the IT guy, or Aaron the smart person.
To be you, rather than you the worker, or you the wizz… feel free to fill in blanks where it is appropriate.
Or even to just be you, instead of you the failure, you the lost one, you the one who is not good enough, etc.
Real love has a way of filling us with something better in contrast to the worst of what we think about ourselves, and also emptying us of titles and accolades that do not really matter in the court of authentic identity.
True love identifies our real selves, and allows us to forget about the self that we construct.
It allows us to be.
It is the filling of the soul with a truth shared deeply between all.
That beneath it all we are vulnerable, and yet in that we are invulnerable… when we are sincere with the realization of this.
The brahman to the ramen. Let that twist your noodle.
In some way all of us are alone. All of us are incomplete there by our own limits and imperfections, and so many myself included are lonely because this primordial, needy, frail yet hopeful part of us doesn’t want to be burned again merely for the reason of it existing.
We can be known, and we can be seen, and without the burden of being something extrinsically valuable… we can be held with all of our being.
Among good humanity, and certainly in the Creator.
How?
Turn inward, and add not to what you already are in Truth.
For you are loved, and in this… you are not alone.
