I guess I've never really felt alone. I've always had a husband, parents, children, plenty of friends. Now the parents are deceased, husband has flown the coop, and the children are off living their lives. That leaves me with friends. Of which I am purely blessed. I have many friends. I adore them all. I need them all. But the loneliness persists.
I've got to find a way to squelch it. I don't like it. I don't even like saying "I'm lonely". It's not like I don't have plenty to do. Plenty around the house, plenty of work, great hobbies, loads of good movies to watch, pets to love. It is definitely not an empty life. But it can be a lonely life.
It doesn't help that I work from home. Not that working from home is a bad thing. I love it. I fold laundry while on conference calls, am available to let the dogs in and out and in and out. Working from home makes me feel more in control of my life and my time. But it does mean I am home. A lot. Alone. Sometimes, such as yesterday, I was just dying for some human contact. So I went to the Y. That helped. I can work from a coffee shop or library. Earlier in the week, I worked from the home of a friend who needed a little help. The flexibility suits me wonderfully.
I have two dear friends who have both spoken recently about the pervasive loneliness in their lives. One is a widow and the other a retired gentleman. I don't believe I suffer from the same level of loneliness they do, and for that I am grateful, but I still hurt for them.
My loneliness is more of an emptiness. An empty bed. An empty dining room. An empty heart. Sometimes an empty bank account. But worst of all, an empty soul.
