I like to imagine that I'm a rather independent guy. I've been living pretty much on my own since I was about 14 when my parents were divorced. Technically, I live with my father, but with my school and his work, we are only seldom in the house at the same time. Even before my parents were divorced, I was a somewhat introverted child, so I adjusted easily and was never much bothered by the isolation. In fact, the whole idea of loneliness had never really entered my mind--that is, until recently.
It's such an odd sensation meeting one of the handful of people that will--intentionally or not--make you question just who you are; who will, through some subtle, accidental words or through momentous action, challenge the foundations you've built for yourself.
I was oblivious to how much I'd craved contact with someone else until I actually felt that closeness, and then an unconscious loneliness came over me like a wave. I had no experience with this kind of emotion; it was something that must have been building-up over the years that I was unaware of, and so I didn't know how to deal with it. The loneliness quickly turned to obsession and desperation. Desperation is a cruel emotion and people can smell it on you. It works so that, the more you want something, the further it will be from you.
It seems to me that it was the reason things ended, though I can't be sure. That is a horrible sensation in itself. It's like when you have to watch your dog be put down, and as it happens there is that thought that enters your mind: that maybe there was something that you could have done, or worse, maybe it was something you did.
- ec.wolf
