Long ago I lost a love, and no one else has come along in all that time ever since. God's decree? My personal fate? Just bad luck? I don't know. Nor does the reason really matter. For the end result remains unchanged, where the wind whispers, "Lonely" ...
I have created a world of dreams. And "she" exists inside a place where no one else may go. Love abounds inside that realm. We spend great deals of time there. Side by side, spanning the years as lovers, partners, and very best friends, two twin souls who share one heart ... if only in my mind.
She is the pillow in my arms every night. I speak with her on solitary strolls through warm summer rain. She occupies the empty space next to me on park benches. I have held her hand, rested her head on my shoulder, and felt her gentle presence. We laugh, we cry, we sing and fly, we merge and spiritually unite, making one another more fully whole than the sum of our separate selves.
Should anyone happen to observe me from afar during any of these countless private moments, they would perceive naught but a lone individual off by himself somewhere. I might be seen smiling, or talking out loud, but nothing more could other eyes discern. Yet her essence is always there from my own vantage point, and because of that I am never truly alone ... even when all by myself.
Imaginary love is obviously no replacement for the real thing. Nor does a wig prove superior over an actual full head of hair. Yet each of us makes do with what we have, and something is nearly always better than nothing. Matters of the heart are no exception.
Some people might think my situation pathetic. If so, then I strongly suspect that they've never had an opportunity for viewing this world through the blurry lens of loneliness. Love is required for true felicity, and we do whatever it takes to survive. The savagery of solitude cannot be comprehended until experiencing it firsthand.
Sometimes I wonder about my sanity. Supposedly it's a good sign if someone can do such a thing. And yet I am not so certain. I sing songs to someone no one else can see, and I'd rather spend time with this invisible person than most corporeal folks I know. My "daydream woman" is even occasionally encountered inside my nighttime dreams.
This make-believe relationship has persisted for so long it's become pseudo-realistic. I haven't withdrawn from everyday reality. I simply dwell within another world as well. One part of me realizes that I am alone when walking around the lagoon each day. Yet on a different plane she is most definitely present, projected onto my mental landscape with remarkable degrees of realism, protecting me from all harm, keeping the dark enemy at bay. Thus, she lives, and so we love, in our own ineffable way.
Little by little across two decades, I have grown increasingly introverted. Each passing year finds me sinking a bit further into my deepest self. Social contacts are kept to a minimum. I feel apart from nearly everything. Videogames, the local park, this website, and my fantasy love are the primary components of life at present. And I am very fatigued.
I do not know from what strange source my will to survive is sustained. Nevertheless, I continue this existence for some wholly unfathomable reason. However, time must always take its toll. I may have managed to stay alive throughout these many sterile years, but my heart and soul are weary from a quest which seems to have no end ... the search for a real life counterpart to someone who is literally the woman of my dreams.
In recognizing the fact that my personal fate is apparently indeed one of isolation ... a stolid figure, seemingly sentenced to a state of singleness ... the agony of seeking without ever finding has been reduced to a dull throb. This uneasy peace may be pervaded by overall despondency, but what can I say beyond the proverbial, "Que sira, sira"?
Still, a tiny measure of optimism remains. Hope always springs eternal, even if the waters in my well are running rather low. I no longer possess the emotional strength and spiritual stamina necessary for pursuing this rainbow's end. So my efforts are now of a passive nature, as I wait for her to find me. Maybe I'm just an idealistic dreamer, playing a fool's role. Yet now and then, here and there, fortune does favor the foolish.
Perhaps I am waiting for a fairy tale to come true. Yet I already have an alternate universe in which much of my life is spent. Who amongst us knows what can or cannot happen? Sadness and dejection have made me neither cynical nor pessimistic. Without romantic notions like this, what's the use of anything?
As has been previously analogized, my website is but a bottle cast upon the Internet ocean, carrying cries from one lost soul to its long awaited, yet unknown, distant twin companion. Actually, I have many such vessels floating around these electronic seas. A number of them are regularly deposited on far away cybernetic shores ...
Somewhere in this world, a solitary lass sits by herself on a deserted stretch of beach ... yet next to her is someone special about whom she has only dreamed. He exists inside a place where no one else may go, singing songs within her heart no one else can know.
A gorgeous sunset paints the sky. She yearns to love forevermore. The swelling surf whispers, "Lonely". A bottle rolls onto the shore ... {DR Engle - 2000}
