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There is a cute brunette at work that laughs in such a way that you find yourself joining in without consciously meaning to. She also scrunches up her nose when she is thinking. It is a minor human foible, and yet butterflies flutter in my stomach every time it happens. Yes they are also smart, dress well, smell good, etcetera. At least we get to be colleagues, at worst we will only be friends.

I have been a confirmed bachelor my entire life, save a month and a half in University where I fumbled my way through a relationship that was doomed from the very beginning. I am still in my mid-twenties and I fret that I will end up a crabby old miser whose only remaining joy is yelling at people to get off my lawn and spitting on children. I can only assume that this is how Mickey Rooney spends his days.

Loneliness is such a weird experience. I live in a city with over one million people. I talk with hundreds, if not thousands of people each week. Yet as I cruise home, with the headlights of other cars reflecting off my hood as they race towards wherever their lives are taking them, there is an element of dread that creeps in my sub-conscience. There will be nobody at home waiting for me. I will be cooking or ordering in for myself. Unless my mother calls nobody is going to ask about my day. Both successes and failures will not be discussed. Who will laugh at my corny comments while watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote? The walls will always stay silent. The floor, save for the occasional creek, will not talk back.

I often park in front of my house and sit in the quiet for a minute before going inside. It’s unsettling how quick the silence envelopes you. It is as if you were laying in a basin slowly being filled by pudding. It is loneliness, and it is terrifying.

It is second nature for many beasts to find a mate for life. Many birds share the same nest year after year. Humans have a similar nesting instinct. They want to share their lives, their experience, their moments. Without it, their lives are shallow, empty, or worse, meaningless.

It is meaning that is the key. To be made to feel as if you are not contributing something is to be made to feel worthless. With someone else in your life, no matter how bad it gets, at least you are feeling worthless together. However corny that seems, there is strength in numbers, even if it is only two.

That cute brunette at work will never share those experiences with me. They have been taken. More than that I know it is unlikely they ever have those butterflies over my foibles, or unexpectedly laugh when I do. Loneliness is a hard aspect of life to avoid, but life is not about succumbing to the void, but finding ways to fill it. Perhaps I will start a pottery class. I wonder if she like vases. . .

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