To have nobody to hold on to -
I'm standing at the balcony watching the cars go by.
My new home. It feels like a resort, a chalet. So beautiful, yet... so foreign; not mine. Behind the beauty lies a hint of loneliness.
All of a sudden I feel completely alone. A couple of room lights on here and there in the next block, but where's the laughter and the music and the children with their grandparents?
Beyond this busy city road is a dark forest. The noise and lights are a mask, a distraction, hiding this huge black mystery. Lonely. There's the facade of hype - busy roads, zooming cars - suddenly a second of silence. The loneliness of the forest screams at me.
Lonely. In this house that isn't mine, with the silent forest not too far away - silent but mocking, taunting, daring. On the road, the cars are running away, away from this lonely place they don't even notice. Leaving me here alone. Somehow the silence speaks above the noise of the cars.
Busy emotionless faces zoom toward and away in an instant; emotionless faces, places to go. The forest taunts. I'm alone. The busy road and busy lights can't hide the loneliness of the forest - and the loneliness of me.
Waiting for the one, the only one who brings back familiarity, the one I've always known, the one who drives away all loneliness with his warmth, to come with a hug from behind or a kiss on the ear, tell me we aren't alone -
wait, I haven't met him yet.
This illusion of familiarity. This loneliness - the forest beckons.