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Old Pages
7.06.2006
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I was rummaging through old CDS when I encountered old back-ups of my websites from the past years.
And among the files were my old journal entries, which I would admit are cringe-worthy at times. But there were some that struck me. This is my favorite.
One Thousand Raindrops
I am not alone.
Physically, yes, I am not. The presence of Tonsy patiently sitting beside me as we wait for the rain to subside is more than a confirmation.
I am not alone. But frankly, I feel like I am.
I am beyond speechless as I watch a thousand raindrops break into the concrete grounds. I feel so outnumbered. I am here and yet I feel so foreign.
Why am I lonely? Why do I feel alone?
I feel alone because there is something lacking. There is something empty. Desperately needing to be filled.
From Bourdillon's pen came these fine words:
The mind has a thousand eyes
And the heart but one
And yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is gone.
That light has been dead for over two years now. A flickering hope would spark the flame from time to time, but it never grew as bright as it was.
I sneak a glance at the man beside me as he checks the time and sighs. For a brief moment a few years ago this man has kept my flame burning. And for the past two hours that we were inside the moviehouse I had been pressing intently on the armrest between us, wanting, waiting for something to happen.
I ask myself a question.
Was it flesh calling for action?
Or a heart longing for warmth?
Could it possibly be both?
None of it would have mattered. I resort to desperate measures. And anything temporary only lasts for a short term. A slight touch, a quick squeeze would not cure me of my loneliness. It would not drive away the emptiness. It would still rain on me.
I am still lonely. And raindrops are always there to remind me that, whether it be a slight drizzle or a thousand heavy drops.
Gray clouds are still hovering above me. It might take time before the sky clears up.
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