There are moments when it comes to you.   No matter how many friends and acquaintances you have, no matter how many people love you, still there is a bubble within which you exist alone and from which you cannot escape.

It’s just a sensation like a slight chill when the air touches you and it is unexpectedly cooler than you thought.  It comes when you are talking to another and you are looking into each other’s eyes and you feel a longing that you cannot express but you are intense and feel the other person’s intensity coming at you in a wave of feeling, transmitted by their eyes or their smile or their hesitant touch, their slight shifting of weight from one leg to another.

You want to say something but your insides tie your words into knots and you cannot release what you want to say because you know it will not make sense.

“I love you.”   “You are beautiful.”  “I understand you.”

How do these words capture the nature of what is bubbling on your insides?   At the same time, the other person is also saying something anodyne, something that you can tell is completely disconnected from what they would like to but cannot allow themselves to say out loud.

And then you move away, aware that a moment of restraint has passed, a moment where feeling has been pulled back into a knot of guilt and shame and regret.   And the knot inside your self grows both more elaborate and stronger and you want to turn around and explain yourself and say “I should have said…but I didn’t”  But you don’t.   You just keep walking, not turning, fearing that if you turn you will be pulled like Orpheus’ love back into Hades, even though you are sure the other person’s eyes are still on you, asking you to turn but that if you did, they would regret it.

Or conversely, the feeling comes to you when you know that what you want to say will be rejected by the one to whom you want to say it.   What you want to say will seem maudlin and elicit irony, bitterness or anger.  And what is worse, sometimes, you can no longer restrain yourself and you say it anyway, it comes back at you like a ricochet off a plastic surface through which you cannot penetrate.

And you want to say, “Please love me, please accept me,”  but the words evaporate like water on Mars as they reach your lips.  And the movement of your heart and mind are rendered into minuscule twitches at the corners of your mouth and you can no longer bear to be in the same room as the one to whom you want to express your devotion but can’t.

Or maybe, it is just the sudden feeling that you are indeed alone, that no one shares your specific destiny because when the breath leaves your body and escapes to the upper reaches of the atmosphere, your consciousness will also fade to black and the little film that plays constantly in your head will simply stop.  And that transition that you make from awareness to its opposite will happen in an instant, an instant when you will be cut off from everyone and everything.   And you will do this without company, by yourself.

In a way, this is nothing new to me.   I have always felt, no matter my deepest feeling of longing or love, that I would never truly understand, feel or perceive when someone was expressing those things to me.   I have rarely actually felt connection to other human beings or rather, have rarely perceived their feelings of connection to me.   I keep hoping someday to find it but I most often feel that I will always be on the way to that destination without fully arriving.  I make slow progress towards the end of my journey but my pace keeps slowing and the I cannot seem to make that final step before consciousness passes from me entirely.

I am lonely in the midst of those who love me and those I really want to hug to me have passed from this world before me.   I am tired and worn out by the constant spiritual embraces I receive and would like just once to be totally embraced again by my mother and father, the only beings who really gave me that physical sensation of total acceptance and comfort, without conditions, without demand, without any concern for what happens next.   Shall I ever feel that again?