Prologue
Loneliness.
A common feeling for most people. There’s seven billion people in the planet, but we’ve all been consumed with the feeling at least once in our lives. Once if you’re lucky.
My most prominent and early memory of me feeling lonely for the first time was when I was six years old. It was the day I had begged my mother to take me to the playground closest to my house because a new slide had just been built.
It was one of those tunnel slides that made little kids feel as if they were entering a dark cave when sliding down through it. It had many twist and turns that it made it difficult to see down to the bottom.
I remember the park being crowded. Some children were just watching others slide down because they were too terrified to go down on their own. Other children were filled with enthusiasm to explore the new unknown slide because their imagination was creative enough to turn what adults consider prosaic into something extraordinary.
Back then, I was a child who always had a different person to play with during each visit. I’d come across someone who appeared to be alone and approach them to become their friend. But I could never gather the courage to approach a large group of people. I had always been a shy child, so one person was all my bravery could handle.
We’d spend the rest of the day running around until one of us had to leave.
It had always been that way, and I enjoyed it since no experience was fun unless you had someone to share it with. It didn’t matter that I’d probably never see the child again; it was comforting to know that I had someone beside me at the time. And ending up alone was better than feeling alone.
But this one day was different.
I remember looking around and noting that each child was accompanied by someone. I would have approached somebody, but everyone was in groups of four or more, and no matter how badly I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to form any words.
While climbing up the top of the slide, my eyes scanned the playground and that’s when the feeling hit me.
I was surrounded by a few dozen of people yet I had never felt so alone.
It makes me laugh now that I think about it, because of course, having no friends to play with at a park is definitely not the end of the world.
And if that was my first heartbreak, I’d gladly go back, since the love I used to feel when I was around people has withered away like the petals on a neglected rose.
And now, any stare from a person tends to prick my skin like thorns.
It’s a shame where I have now ended up because it makes me miss the time when feeling lonely was uncommon. I miss the fact I used to hate it. But things have changed so much that I now want to be alone.
If you spend too much time in it, It’ll eventually snatch you up until there’s a point where being alone is all you know.
So then maybe I lie. Maybe I don’t want to be alone.
Maybe it’s just what I know.
I’ve had my fair share of let downs from being around a lot of people, so socialising and making a lot of new friends really isn’t appealing anymore. However, there were moments when I was plunged into a dark worm hole and I needed someone to pull me out of it.
There were times I craved a form of comfort, such as a hand to grip or an arm around my shoulders, because being utterly alone can be excruciating. It’s only when I went through a hard time with my parents that I realised who would be there for me and who wouldn’t.
It made me realise there was no one.
There’ll always be no one.
And just like that, seven billion people started to feel so small, so pointless, so mythical.
I always felt like I was on the outside looking into a world I could never claim as my own.
I would sit silently in my thoughts while I watched other people smile, laugh and cheer. Their families were beautiful and their families were strong. And that all left me wondering if I would ever belong to one.
I would watch everything play out in front of me.
It’s their universe in which they are the sun, and everything else just revolves around them- they are always at the centre.
But I’m the passing asteroid.
Yet I got used to it.
I had to, because unlike a sickness or a disease, the feeling of rejection, or being an outcast has no cure. Therefore, the only solution left is to manage on your own.
So I forced myself to move on with my life by always preparing for the worst outcome. I prepared myself so no one could disappoint me if my expectations were already low. I prepared myself for every dark corner of the world so I would never be hit with something I couldn’t defeat.
I prepared myself to keep up my guard to prevent furthermore damage to my already broken heart. I prepared myself for it all.
Then imagine my surprise when I met you.
Never in my life had I been left so unprepared.
