In the quietude of my aloneness, I sighed. There are days the tears fall unannounced. The yearning seeks an escape. It seems the wait is long. For what? For whom? For you? How much longer? Does it matter? And what if you never return? What then? The days keep getting shorter as the years creep and I age, sometimes gracefully but most times exceptionally particularly when I don’t succumb to the wayward madness of time.
If longing had its space, a time and a place, I would seek to return it for it’s been with me far too long. Is it mad to want and wait or seek and escape? I have yet to decide. I have indulged in both. I hardly ever choose. It often feels like a pull down an enchanting abyss. I fall upon or pull under. Unabashedly, I crawl in the crevices, prod, peek, touch and behold. It is when the search weighs that I pause and wonder: “Why here? Why now? Why me?
“It is the existentialist in you” you would say.
Am I really alone? Am I the sole being who often ponders why the dash exists or matters and what to make of it? Is this not the reason we are here: for the meaning of existence, or the search?
On days when loneliness nears, I wish I had a hand to hold, someone to be with, make them the reason for meaning and being. That is the only way I can stop the questions. I do that a lot you know “others give me purpose”. Am I my own purpose? Could that be?
How do others wake? Do they really open their eyes and not think of tomorrow or the now? Do you really go about your day without once asking what happens when you are gone and why you are here now?
I ask myself this every second of the day and maybe more of late. As I sit in the home God gifted me overlooking the water view I always wanted, yes I would prefer the sea but God…you know the rest, don’t you? As I sit and watch the sun kiss the leaves, the wind caress the water and listen to the birds’ early morning songs, once more I wonder why am I still here God?
One thing I must assure you of, I am loving the peace, the quiet of my solitude.