Here’s a thing. I’m lonely. I’m very, very lonely. I live in a busy house full of busy people and I’m busy helping people put shoes on, wiping noses, cooking tea, washing school uniforms, walking the dog. It’s endless and endlessly repetitive. A thought keeps creeping into my head and I keep pushing it back so I can’t acknowledge it. But I’m lonely. I’m so very lonely.
Back in the day I had a busy job and work colleagues, legions of friends to go out with and an active social life. Now my life is lived for the most part online. It is wasn’t for the constant chatter about the practicalities of living, finding shoes, being late for school, what’s for tea and me telling the dog what a good girl she is, I’m sure I’d not speak to anyone about anything. I’m really very lonely.
Sometimes I lie in bed at night listening to the quiet creaking of the house and the gentle snoring of the boys in their rooms. I turn over and hug myself to sleep. Sometimes I lie on my arm until it’s numb and I hold hands with myself, just to feel the comfort of human touch. I’m so bloody lonely.
I miss banter, I miss laughing with other people, I miss making people laugh. I miss talking about last nights TV and I miss people needing me and wanting me. I am superfluous. If I vanished I’m sure people would only eventually notice because I stopped tweeting, or the dog needed walking and no one had done it. Or that tea wasn’t on the table.
This sounds so self pitying, but I feel so alone. I feel so lonely. I can’t see a time in the future when I won’t feel like this, if anything it will get worse and I’ll feel more alone and lonely every year. And I don’t know what to do to fix that, other to keep lying on my arm so someone will hold my hand while I fall asleep at night.