Finding Paris

For Once in my Life

I live alone. And I usually do things alone. One of the perks is that I learn to be independent, to be courageous enough to go on by myself. It does get lonely though. I see people in coffeehouses laughing, people by the park talking. I seldom have moments like that. And I do want too. I just don’t have people with me. And when I do, I seldom talk.

“Is there anything wrong,” they ask. I guess I just do not have anything to say. I do not have anything to express. They look at me and ask, “Why are you always lonely,” and to my other companions they say, “Why are you guys not befriending her?” It seems that they think of me as someone who is problematic, like I’m some sort of a psychologically depressed individual. I never did have any close friends except for someone I met in high school and who now lives very far away.

“I missed us dancing.” His voice spun me towards reality. Oh, yes, here we are at the park seeing each other again after two long years. It surprises me now how casual we are in each other’s company like we’re not strangers who only got connected by Thursday dance nights. He reaches for my hand and twirls me as the music starts to waft around the air. I look at him and he looks back at me, not an ounce of awkwardness or discomfort. With him, I don’t feel alone. I feel a sense of belongingness, like I suddenly become part of something that is special, something that is beautiful.

We danced like we did before until the music stopped and all we heard was our breathing.

“Where have you gone,” I asked him as we walked towards the park bench.

“Somewhere I don’t know, somewhere far from here,” he replied staring blankly at the evening horizon.

We both sat quiet for a while and for a moment I thought it was all just a dream, an imagination. I looked by my side and there he was, smiling.

“I know you feel alone. I can feel it, you know. We may not be the best of friends but if you’d want me to be, I will. I can’t promise that I’ll always be by your side but I’ll make sure that you never feel alone.”

I stared at him as he finished talking. Never did someone tell me that he knows I feel alone, that he’ll never let me feel alone. A tear dropped on my hands. I guess I was just waiting for someone to find out my feelings because I never had the courage and determination to even acknowledge it. I was waiting for someone to see. I was waiting for someone to understand.

I went home that night happy. I went home knowing that now, I can have somebody to laugh with at coffeehouses, somebody to talk to at the park. I was found.