
I’ve realized that the older one gets; the lonelier he/she becomes. Maybe because the “baggage” gets heavier with age. One usually doesn’t throw away troubles that easy, either one faces and resolves it or totally ignores and buries it in the trunk. Nonetheless, it stays with the person and at some point in his/her life, it will haunt his/her back. I guess we have our own “little demons” to fight.
Mine is the kind of loneliness that is neither “good” nor “bad”. Given a better choice of word, I wouldn’t even call it that. “Solitude” would be much appropriate but even this word equates “isolation” and “detachment” which I am not.
It’s the kind that sticks to you even though you tried to ignore or compensate for it. It’s recurring, mostly in unusual circumstance. It happens even though I am in the middle of a happy crowd or amist a blissful thought. I guess there are people like that.
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