Lonely Again

​Lonely hearts are endured, usually in secret. I always brushed the idea of love off my shoulders. What the point was, I wasn’t sure. I strived to try and make friends, let alone go out with someone. But even people like me eventually fall into this notion of being with a significant other: hugging, cuddling, kissing, and wanting to be with a significant other forever. 

​“Have you ever gone out with anyone?” someone asked me.

​“No, I don’t think anyone would want to go out with me,” I chuckled. A bit sorrowful, but it was true. No one in this school would suit me, nor would anyone with a solid mind try to comprehend my thoughts. I, a weirdo, a gamer, and a self-proclaimed otaku, was presumptuous, almost pretentious. Like a puppy from a different mother. (Otaku- a Japanese term for people with obsessive interests)

​The bell rang.

​My mind continued to wander as I head home. I was talking to myself, a habit which my aunt always pointed out. She said I always appeared very strange from the outside. I’ve never gone back to this habit until recently.

​Who do you like, Sam?

​The question lingered around my brain like a tourist in a foreign country. Shaking my head, I tried keeping this voice at bay. Who cared? What felt more important was my education, my academic career. I could worry about this mushy romance during college. High school’s full of rudimentary adolescents, behaving like Neanderthals. Daft, sophists who haven’t a real idea of love, only lust. But then, I thought, did I have a real idea of love? 

​Who do you like?

​Why couldn’t I push this question out of the way!? It doesn’t matter for a person like me. I’ve set myself apart from society. I’m who people would be glad to see the back of. Even if I liked someone, what’s the point? How could I approach them?  It would only cause problems. What if someone else liked them?

​Sigh. I couldn’t help but remind myself of this girl I met years ago in a church my uncle used to preach for. Naturally, as a child, I didn’t like to sit still for an hour, listening to a mundane speech, which at the time had no meaning. I headed towards the children’s area to watch some cartoons to play with some toys. The ambience was empty. I felt quite lonely because no one else was there. I ended up playing with some cars or a board game by myself. I always enjoyed taking a look at the pieces of the board game in depth. How these plastic blobs barely represent their characters. I began to feel melancholy. 

​That’s when she walked in, a little girl, about the same age as me. It was as if an angel came down to bless me. I couldn’t remember what she looked like. Heck, I don’t even remember her name! I don’t think she ever told me. I just remember the brief moments of bliss I experienced from being with her. Playing and talking as I looked at her. She filled this gap in me, like a puzzle struggling for someone to fill in that last piece. I felt a little less lonely. 

​Every Sunday, I anticipated going back to church, just to see her again. I went to the children’s room, anticipating her arrival. I waited. I waited some more. She never came back. The room grew hollow once again. The world appeared drab. My loneliness came back to haunt me.

​I wish she’d come back to fill this gap in me, once again. 

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