18
“Like grief, loneliness can be split into phases, but you prefer acts.
IN ACT III, you are most grounded and
philosophical. You have done everything you wanted and everything you could. Your muscles ache, and all that dancing made you more uncomfortably sweaty than free. All that is left to do is lay down in bed and think. You don’t know why you think so much, and perhaps, you are making up for the conversation you missed by not being around anyone. So your brain decides to form its dialogue. First, it creates fake conversations you would have with people you already know, like the cute boy in Biology or your sexy coworker. Now you can say the things you wished you’d say. And they say exactly what you want to hear right back to you. If life were a play, just like loneliness, Act III is where you dwell over the technical mistakes you made in the 9th grade, your senior year, and two months ago in college. You also start thinking about the books you haven’t read, the experiences you haven’t had, and the people you miss. It is in this act you are reminded how terrible this all is. How unbearable these lonely nights are. Because what is a tea party without fruitful conversation? And what is a dance party without the heat of other bodies? Now you are liquid, melting into the crevices of your mattress, unable to hold form without the strength of your imagination. Tomorrow you wake up alone again in the mess you’ve made. Aching for an audience.