Alone — @belleartmovement

Alone — @belleartmovement

by Alina Simu

As Edgar Allan Poe said, “And all I loved, I loved alone”, is the feeling that sneaks up on me every once in a while, or, as years have passed, the feeling has been on repeat like a broken record, that wouldn’t start playing the happy song already.

Alone as I make my bed, alone as I look out the window at 4 am after another sleepless night, alone as I’m making my way back home. As boring and unoriginal as it made sound, I’m lonely in a crowded room and when I’m on my own. We all feel a sense of incompleteness once and again in our life.

I get out of bed and I sink my feet on the cold floor for a few seconds, listening to the emptiness of the house.  I make my bed, get something to eat and then hours pass, until the planet rotates to the sun hidden part of the universe. And so, the days slip away and I never get to catch them. It’s an on-going tag you’re it game, but I never win.

I blow my hot breath against the cold window and I watch the foggy spot appear. I draw some letters, then I remain there watching the neighbours. They’re not doing much, I can’t even see them, and if I did, I bet they would drag their curtains to hide away. People don’t like to be looked at, but I do. The watcher or the object of observation, both roles suit me well.

I romanticize everything and everyone in my head. I see life with these rose colored lenses, although my reality doesn’t match at all. I see movies and I read books, and I long for those powerful emotions, that old saying, again, quite unoriginal, “we didn’t know we were making memories”. How can I make memories when my days have been so dull?

And so what if I’m unoriginal. We all feel the same, us humans, like to think we are so unique, that we distinguish in a crowd, that a lot of people think of us as some special creatures. Breaking news, we’re all the same and kind of boring. We give people special places in our hearts, we see them as such when we love them, once all this love disappears watch how the same people we could have sworn were the most unique people to walk on earth, become colourless.

Anyway, I’m rambling.  Let me get back to the empty room.  

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