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Fish cannot understand the freedom of birds. Birds cannot
understand the ignorance of humans. Humans cannot understand the depth of
fish. And you cannot understand my immaturity because you are not me. Even
if you know me well, you are not me. Who can understand my loneliness, my
solitude, and my sense of loss besides myself?
Loneliness is like lifting a cup and inviting the moon, or feeling awake
when everyone else is drunk, or asking, "Who will go home with me?" It's
like hiding in a small building and disregarding the changing seasons. Have
you understood loneliness? Well, I have.
A cool night breeze blows into the open window, filling the room with a
chilly draft. I get up and close the window, and suddenly, the house is dead
silent. Another night alone. But that's okay, I've gotten used to it.
Eating alone, walking alone, singing alone, daydreaming alone, living in a
world of one's own, helpless and lonely. It's been so long since I've talked
to my family. Whenever I come home, we're all busy with our own things. When
we have time to spare, I stay holed up in my room, forgetting how to laugh
and joke around.
Dad has never been good with words. He never talks more than he has to and
never cracks a smile. His silence has made our home a quiet place, and I've
become quiet and reserved as well. I always try to do things quietly at
home, fearing that I might break the peace and make Dad unhappy. Our home,
once warm and cozy, has become cold and suffocating.
Mom is usually very witty, but after a long day at work, she doesn't have
the energy to be funny. She comes home and silently cooks and cleans, as if
she doesn't have the strength to speak. I feel sorry for her when I see the
bloodshot in her eyes. Her silence has taken away the only laughter in our
home. Sometimes, I would rather sit outside than come home. Anything is
better than the oppressive silence inside.
"Homecoming" used to be such a beautiful word, but now it makes me afraid
and anxious. My loneliness and solitude feel even colder in the face of the
icy air. Who can truly understand my loneliness if they have not experienced
it themselves?
You are not me, so how can you really understand me? Do you truly understand
my loneliness? |
