Sometimes you wake up and it isn’t one of those busy days, where you’ve hit snoozed one too many times and you only have enough time to brush your teeth and pull on a pair of pants. Sometimes you wake up, and it’s silent. That kind of silence, the silence where the universe hasn’t waken up yet, and it’s just you. No, not the peaceful kind, the bleak kind. You mentally check off the tasks you need to get done today, don’t forget your lunch in the fridge, and try to drink your tea before it turns cold. Do you ever wake up and feel alone? Do you ever wake up and want to go home, but you realize home is a place you’ve never had? Does the air suddenly feel like it did five years ago? Have things changed since then? You search for an idea of home, but nowhere is a comforting enough place that your heart would feel nice. The water has finished boiling for your tea. You’ve shut off the sink. You’ve turned off your heater. You turn off the music. You take one last look at this home before you close the door to go to work. The space between your house door and the car door is where you’ll look for home. You know that’s the best shot you’ve got.
I think loneliness might be easier. When you’re lonely, you seek out temporarily relief from this emptiness. When you’re alone, you keep to yourself. You know that this is the best you’ve got.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe in an hour you’ll feel different.
Most of the time, you don’t feel this way. But when you do, it has a lasting impression. Silence has an uncanny way of providing more of a dynamic experience than does movement.