Someone Is Listening

Loneliness doesn’t always announce itself.

Sometimes, it sneaks up on us and we’re heart-deep in it before we realise what’s really going on.

Personally, its rarely because there’s no one around and more often the fallout of not feeling heard.

It’s like yelling at the bare walls in an empty building.

Thoughts, wishes and conversation starters that fail to ignite echo back in waves.

Like a sandcastle leveled by the tide, my faith in this world’s capacity to accommodate me washes away.

Together means everything.

The sense of self that’s formed in aloneness is reinforced by a sense of shared identity.

Relatability makes the world mean something.

Where there’s acceptance, the alien finds family.

But to be accepted is to be first heard.

We find common ground when we find that the ground we stand upon is shared by someone else.

In contrast, loneliness is finding that the whole world is an ocean and you’re a sandbar.

(Again with the sand but I hope you get my point.)

When the loneliness hits, it hits hard.

It paralyses or triggers the wrong moves.

We either clam up or we reach for everything we shouldn’t, for everyone we wouldn’t have if we didn’t feel the aching need for some kind of company.

Neither is worth your time.

“But what’s the point of saying anything? No one is listening.”

I swear, there’s always someone listening.

Your person.

Your people.

Your tribe.

The distance between us and them is unknown but the journey is always worth it.

In my opinion, a lot of connections are made at the speed of sound.

No sound, no signal.

And without a signal, there’ll be nothing for the listener to respond to.

You see, silence cannot be an option.

Some walls have ears and they talk back in your language.

Keep yelling.