I am surrounded by people playing a game on an outside table. They are lively and obviously happy. The weather is refreshing. It’s that cool rainy weather of a summer afternoon. It should be tranquil, calming. I have all reason to be happy. I’m not.

There is a loneliness that eats away at my soul. Though I am surrounded by many, my loneliness is nearly palpable.  I wish I had something to do, something to distract me from my agony. My phone seems like a good option so I switch it on and read the Time magazine. The players shout victoriously after every clever move. I share neither in their victories nor in their losses. My loneliness is at its pinnacle.

What is the purpose of my life if I share it with nobody? Nobody is listening to my voice. All those experiences in my life that I find so remarkable, nobody is there to hear about them. It’s like everybody is a special piece of the social puzzle and I was a piece misshapen by accident then tossed onto the pile. I don’t fit anywhere.  I wish I could just fall into a bottomless chasm and disappear forever.

But I found hope! I found a way to live a happy and content life, alone. Who cares if the people around me aren’t willing to listen to my voice? I will shout it out to the world out there! My thunderous voice shall be heard through my writing. I shall cherish every single moment of my life because I know somewhere out there somebody is waiting to read about my special experiences.

I see myself back at that outside table. I can feel the yellow rays of the sun on my skin. Oblivious to my existence, the players continue to play noisily. But oh the joy in my heart as I relish every moment of it! Somebody out there is going to read about it.