When I was in college, I read a handful of books that stuck with me as personally significant. One of them stuck with me simply because of its title. In a literature survey course one semester, we read the biography of Catholic social activist Dorothy Day, entitled “The Long Loneliness”. I don’t remember much detail from most of the books I’ve read, but I remembered that book because its name raised in me an awareness about my own life. It felt like a suitable name for my own biography.

It’s been a strange last year. I’ve spent much of my life keeping people out, and I recognize that. And, I suppose, I’ve done that because I’ve experienced some deeper frustrations when I have let people in. I’m not good at letting people in. I’m not good at the dance of graceful language and intimacy and finding the sweet spot with others, soul to soul. I am prickly inside, and my words are often stilted or barbed or laced with ineffectual pleasantries, like excessive sweets that turn sour after devoured. I am perplexed, and then guarded, and then daunted by my inability to draw in and to cultivate love, particularly in a romantic context. The ideation is there, but my efforts falter and stall and leave me exposed and shallow after I let the bridge down over the moat and chance inviting someone in.

I can’t really just blame others for their reticence with me. I start and stop like a choking engine in relationships. I have had limited practice nurturing deeper relationships, and I have gleaned minimal data analyzing those relationships after their demise that had something to teach me. I feel pain to quickly, and then turn inside and close my eyes. I fail too fast. Or I bludgeon my heart against the walls raised by the ‘one’ I think I need to be with and need to know, even though she has pushed me away. I want to ignore her declinations, thinking perhaps my persistance will win her, like in the movies. And then I realize she has sealed me off and I have bloodied myself.

Loneliness is a part of life. I am slowly drifting into the recognition that intimacy with others may very well not be part of my life. Those I most often come to love seem to become more aloof and estranged to me when I give vent to my affection.

It is a strange thing, to be alone so long. I guess I should just rest in the silence.

“Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.” ~ Psalm 27:14