A recently divorced friend
told me that
she is enjoying
her new freedom.
I wonder why.
I don't like freedom,
I like commitment.
Ms X is flying now
to San Francisco.
I hate being alone.
As I walk around the mall,
on a particularly lovely day,
slightly cold
and lightly drizzling,
life seems so vibrant.
Shops are heaving
with people,
restaurants and coffee shops
are full of live.
But yet
I feel utterly alone.
Its a cool lovely afternoon,
I wish I am curled up
in bed,
with Ms X.
Instead, all I have
is this oppressive
and distressing feeling
of loneliness.
On days like this,
I will stumble into
my favourite bar,
hoping to see
someone I know,
its better
than drinking alone.
I am reasonably rich,
there is nothing I really want
that I cannot afford.
But even pampering myself
in an luxurious spa
with gentle
and attentive masseurs
does not seem
particularly relaxing
or enjoyable.
Hundreds of people
read this blog
everyday,
just to see
what I have to say,
I am surrounded by
friends and family,
who always sought
my point of view.
But yet I feel
wretched and useless.
Almost as if
my existence
itself is awkward
and unnatural.
I ate at my favourite stall
and yet it tasted bland,
somehow having someone
to share a meal with
is part of the
eating experience.
Actually, in truth,
I do not particularly enjoy
the company of people,
but yet,
it is better than
being alone
and miserable
in a dull
and insipid life.
