Rebecca and the Lonely
by Rebecca Rivero
Alone does not mean the same as lonely, but what I see is both.
I am alone physically in the sense that no one is in this room with me.
I am alone mentally because no one else can ever be in my head.
How do I share with you want I am thinking and feeling?
I see such beautiful things, but also scary things and surprising things.
I do not see these things where you can see them, but in my head
Eyes wide shut.
I wish I could share them, but who would want to see?
Who cares?
I care and I want everyone else to care.
I am not alone in the sense that there are great groups of people on all these light pages we call social media that want to know me or seem to want to know me.
Presumably I can go to any of these light pages and put fingers to keys in order to type out the words that I am thinking.
I can share the words, but do you read what I mean?
Probably not.
I cannot touch you or the community you belong to on the other side of the screen.
The glass on my side is cold and flat.
There is no life in it.
I yearn for attention and ache for affection and yet I fear it.
I am alone in this room, sitting on my bed under the branches of my thoughts and the weight of possibility.
I want to live in the moment, but what if I do not like the moment I am living?
I want to see the bigger picture but when I think out that wide I feel the threat of it about to crash down on top of me.
The possibilities seem immense and freeing so why do I feel like I am suffocating?
Truly there is nothing wrong, so why am I so anxious?
Why do I want more when I can’t even seem to handle what it is that I have?
Maybe it is not more and I simply want different.
Different what? Different who? Different how?
I want to be challenged.
Maybe the challenge is not to find different, but to find same.
Find same and accept same, see same and love same.
Be happy with what I have and not what I might one day obtain.
These words look beautiful on the screen.
I have not stopped typing since I started writing this.
I still feel alone, but the lonely is not on top of me anymore.
The lonely is sitting next to me watching me type out these words.
These feelings.
Thoughts.
Emotions.
Words are a powerful thing.
Lonely knows this and wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lonely is not evil and Lonely does not need to be feared.
Lonely is an opportunity that I intend to take more advantage of.
I have the luxury to be lonely sometimes.
Other times I am with people, but right now Lonely and I are cuddling in this bed and that is alright.
I am alone physically in the sense that no one is in this room with me.
I am alone mentally because no one else can ever be in my head.
How do I share with you want I am thinking and feeling?
I see such beautiful things, but also scary things and surprising things.
I do not see these things where you can see them, but in my head
Eyes wide shut.
I wish I could share them, but who would want to see?
Who cares?
I care and I want everyone else to care.
I am not alone in the sense that there are great groups of people on all these light pages we call social media that want to know me or seem to want to know me.
Presumably I can go to any of these light pages and put fingers to keys in order to type out the words that I am thinking.
I can share the words, but do you read what I mean?
Probably not.
I cannot touch you or the community you belong to on the other side of the screen.
The glass on my side is cold and flat.
There is no life in it.
I yearn for attention and ache for affection and yet I fear it.
I am alone in this room, sitting on my bed under the branches of my thoughts and the weight of possibility.
I want to live in the moment, but what if I do not like the moment I am living?
I want to see the bigger picture but when I think out that wide I feel the threat of it about to crash down on top of me.
The possibilities seem immense and freeing so why do I feel like I am suffocating?
Truly there is nothing wrong, so why am I so anxious?
Why do I want more when I can’t even seem to handle what it is that I have?
Maybe it is not more and I simply want different.
Different what? Different who? Different how?
I want to be challenged.
Maybe the challenge is not to find different, but to find same.
Find same and accept same, see same and love same.
Be happy with what I have and not what I might one day obtain.
These words look beautiful on the screen.
I have not stopped typing since I started writing this.
I still feel alone, but the lonely is not on top of me anymore.
The lonely is sitting next to me watching me type out these words.
These feelings.
Thoughts.
Emotions.
Words are a powerful thing.
Lonely knows this and wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lonely is not evil and Lonely does not need to be feared.
Lonely is an opportunity that I intend to take more advantage of.
I have the luxury to be lonely sometimes.
Other times I am with people, but right now Lonely and I are cuddling in this bed and that is alright.