Loneliness
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.