the sounds of silence.

 As I get older there are but three things that occupy my mind almost daily.. One being my health, the other two seemingly related to one another are, living completely alone and how unnerving that tends to get at all hours of the day and night, and lastly the feeling that although unnerving and isolating, I don't relish the idea of having to live with or even around anyone.

After decades of reading and researching about people "like me," I am no closer to unraveling the source of this self induced alone "affliction." Reaching out from time to time to others and getting from no response at all to, a quick quip, only serves to reinforce the feel that this life amongst my silent thoughts and fears for me is how it's meant to be. 

Was I happier when I had passions and work and a relationship here and there; I ask myself this in my frequent moments of mental conversations and I can honestly say, "was I happier then, hmm, not that I can remember." Briefly when relationships were new and mutual, they would be "fun," and even "exciting,"  and what I expect most happy people's experiences are like, but in the end, when the end inevitably comes, was it worth it?? I'm not sure it was or to be honest, "no it wasn't.."     

Brief times of happiness only serve to remind me that long term these experiences weren't meant for me for some reason. So why is that, I ask myself, as another look at my history swirls around in my head. I never come up with the answer to why. 

So the fear of dying alone and not being discovered for a long period of time due to not having any long running communications with anyone outside my door is real and it occupies a lot of space in my head but again, why?? It won't matter in the end because of course I'll be dead. But it does matter to me for some reason if only that it would serve to solidify in people's mind that yes, this guy really was a loner and didn't have anyone who actually cared about him. 

I'm not thrilled at that being my odd legacy even after death and it's a bit embarrassing to be totally honest. How does one get to be six decades plus into a life and have no one who cares if I'm alive today or dead 6 months ago and no one knew? 

How many me's are there out there, am I the only one?? These thoughts clutter some of my days and nights and kick off some of my mornings as well. Where is everyone? Is there an email or a missed call checking to see if I'm alive? Well, no, not anymore. Did I cause this, or is this just my lot in life, does God want it this way for some reason I haven't figured out yet? 

No answer just the sounds of silence..