It's a lonely world we live in. Loneliness is worst thing you can be plagued by. At least if you are sick, you have doctors. But if you're lonely, you're exactly that, alone. At this very moment, as cliche as it sounds, I am sitting in a coffee shop. With me are two other people, a man and a women. But when I say with me I do not mean that we're sitting together, enjoying each other's company, I mean we sit departed from one another, isolated in our own ways.
The woman just to my left, she's typing furiously on her laptop, answering call after calling, acting as if each is its own burden. She is lonely, but only by choice. Choosing to stay solitary with her cappuccino and long, vaguely irritating phone calls.
The man next to counter, he is the loneliest of us all. He sits and talks and talks and talks. He talks about weather, about his life experiences and everything in between.
He speaks to man behind the counter, who never a answers, but still listens.
This man talks so much, he barricades himself with his words. He creates his own private prison, just with his attempt at conversation. He is so desperate to get his words out, to have them be heard, he does not listen for a response. He does not realize that an effective conversation consists of two people, most likely because he has never had one before.
This type of loneliness is by far the worst.
His loneliness does not only affect him, but also the people around him. They feel his loneliness, they pity his empty words, which still pour from his mouth like stale tea.
His life is full of one-sided conversations and ignored cries for a friend, or even just an acquaintance. This is a sad man, with a sad life. And the ironic thing is, he won't even be remembered as a tragedy. He may not even be remembered at all.
