Loneliness

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A dimly-lit lounge, bartenders pouring shot after shot into my dangling glass, plush sofas, and gristly bottoms heaving over the leather and hairy hands rubbing against me is what I call loneliness. After years of anticipation and effort what I ran into was always a bunch of males, a sorrow I have cried out my heart at umpteen times but to no avail. 

It was loneliness when I had the love and care of my parents who did everything possible to make me see their love, no matter, how contrary my experience was to the truth. And, now when it's my turn to express my love and care, they are unable to come to terms with it. Crashed expectations raise the dust of loneliness before my eyes once I retire home from work! 

I have been lavished with great love by the near and dear ones; some of them epitomized selfless love as is only heard of these days. But they are very far now and also old. My love made many unsaid promises to them. Those promises are still with me in their unfulfilled state. These promises quirk my loneliness into a terrible guilt. 

The girl I love, I love so dearly, the girl who marks my first remembrance of the day and also the last, is all but a remembrance. If I mention my infrequent visits that completely dwindled in the recent years, it would cast doubts on my feelings for her, and this doubt raises its ugly head often. My crimson love is but a hapless victim of dark circumstances and all my struggle to rise above them is a dreary tale of inescapable loneliness. Nevertheless her longing knows no lessening either, and I move from being a promising lover to being a deserter in her eyes. 

Love has the wisdom of a nominal half-convert, only half-disillusioned by worldly enjoyments. All it takes is one pleasant experience to disenchant it from all his ascetic resolutions, and soon, it has another recourse into the world. The most adamantine walls of conscience and commitment cannot contain the resurgence of love, although it feels like the freedom of a escaped convict. But, invading a heart is such a nice feeling that all remonstrations rising from within cannot retard its steps. I took such steps! Love met another lovable and life was a blessing again. But, soon came the realisation that this fire of love was battling in open air for survival. It does not fit into the ways of the world. 

My heart was again a child whose happiness was only so much as could be had in limits. My loneliness betrayed me and pushed me into accepting the terrible fate that announced very loud into my ears that I will not be spared for desiring the unattainable and my life will be spent running from and running into incurable pain.

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