We are all lonely people - each travelling down a path uniquely ours.
We rush through our lives, surrounding ourselves with hustle and bustle to dull away this loneliness.
We smile at people, we stop at places, we laugh for a moment or two.
Sometimes we meet other people who are equally lonely. They make us forget too.
Sometimes we fall in love. Sometimes we fall out of it, when we learn that the ones we love aren't perfect. We continue searching.
We laugh and cry, we dance and sing.
On warm summer nights, we lie on the grass and count the stars in the sky.
One, two, three, four, five... endless as the people who enter our lives.
When people enter our lives, they leave a part of themselves in us.
But no one truly stays.
When they leave, they take a piece of our hearts along with them.
Sometimes it makes us more alive. Often times it hurts us deeply.
Once every while, we dream of turning the clock back to simpler times.
When every stranger was a friend waiting to be made.
When the future seemed so far away.
When we were easily satisfied.
We try to pause our lives, only to get left behind by others who look just forward.
Sometimes, we discover new passions.
We give our heart and soul to them, only to realise that they are poor substitutes for our dreams.
We grow weary and unhappy.
But then we wonder, what are our dreams?
Could any one thing possibly sustain us for our whole lives?
And a voice tells us that we are weird. We are different from the people of this world. The contented, comfortable souls scurrying around day after day after day.
We tell ourselves that nobody understands us.
Nobody loves us.
We are truly alone.
Little do we realise that when the dust settles...
When the stars fade into blackness...
When words cease...
We are all lonely people.
Lonely people connected only by mutual loneliness.
We grow up.
We grow old.
We grow lonely.