Loneliness is an interesting feeling. And that’s probably because, ironically, there’s no one there for you to explain it to. You can’t quite express it, too. When you’re happy you’ll do your happy dance. When you’re sad you’ll play that soft rock music that you know will make you weep, but you play it anyway. When you’re excited you’ll call up your best friend and scream a bit. When you’re depressed you’ll take a pill. But when you’re lonely…
They told me these rails would lead me to the next town, but I feel like I’ve been walking since the beginning of time. I keep trying to take one step at a time, literally. Not that I would be able to take two at once. I would if I could.
My bag slides off my shoulder and falls down. Good. I was thinking of resting my arm, anyway. I bend to pick it in the slowest motion possible, trying to buy myself some time for rest. My legs think ahead of my brain and decide to give way. In a flash I’m seated in a little patch of grass with my bag lying haphazardly strewn beside me. Normally I’d fret and set it in an upright position. Today I can’t even think in that direction; I’ve never been so happy to be sitting down.
I’ve walked for all these hours and I’ve not seen a thing. Now that I’m not walking, I’m starting to see the stones; to see that each one has its own hue of grey. I’m just starting to see the little specks of rust on the rails, the vibrant green that gets thicker as it goes further away to a place that I don’t know. That’s the other thing about loneliness. If you don’t know how to handle it, you turn inwards and focus entirely on yourself for entirely too much time. You end up like me, supposed to be focusing on getting to the next town and finding a new life again, and instead missing out on all the beauty around you because you’re just not letting yourself see.