How Important It Is To Have Someone When Everything Falls Apart
How important it is to have someone when everything falls apart. A last arm, a last wrist, a few last fingers, a last skin when all the weight makes the vertebrae on our backs creak. In those moments in which we would be willing to make a deal with the devil for a pittance, because deep down we think that if there is something close to misery it is us.
Simple mortals, more deadly than ever. It is not about someone bringing us to the surface, just stopping our fall. That he appears one afternoon with a bag of time and says: I am all yours, I am all yours. You have my five senses. The touch to hug you, the ears to listen, the teeth to bite, the soul to caress, the hopelessness to turn it around. As if it were a sock with drawings discolored by life.
Three types of loneliness for those who do not seek it
There are three types of loneliness for those who do not seek it. We have all felt the first. It is the one that appears when being surrounded by a lot of people and having the feeling that we are not connected with any. Just as we are disconnected from the air that ruffles our hair or the sun that hugs our jowls, in a gesture that is as concealed as it is unconscious. Protective.
This type of loneliness usually happens when many disappear and only the important people remain. When the party is over and it’s time to pick up. Stacking glasses, eating the last bits of food and handing out bottles in which the air has already begun to oxidize the flavor. When the music dies down and you realize how much you missed the absence of meaningless vibrations. Empty
The loneliness of the first, the last and the one who “goes on his own”
There is a second type of loneliness and it is the one felt by those who are first or last. Those who are working on a project that has a long journey and a confusing horizon, only clarified by faith at times. That loneliness makes us big, strong and tests our limits. It is about doing something that later we will not know very well how we have been able to do it. A mystery that is part of the vital idiosyncrasy, puzzling many times.
Complete the album of stickers of our own love. Those adventures of which we will be the last witnesses and that constitute those invisible roots for others that anchor us to life. Sometimes we have counted some, but the feeling is so particular that we cannot avoid having the feeling that no one can understand it, simply because they have not lived it, because they have not been.
The worst loneliness
The last type of loneliness is the worst, it is to look around you and not see anyone. It is having the feeling that as you descend floors people disappear. Until the moment comes when there are none and it seems a lie but you keep going down.
You would like to think that it is a diving game, be sure that you will return to the surface as when you practiced as a child and the grace was in holding on without breathing. Hold on, not breathe, but now it’s not just the lungs that burn… and then you wonder if you really want to come back to the surface. It is different to know that you are expendable to feeling that there will be no one who will miss you.
There is nothing left of fun. You can open your eyes, but there is no light. Only the shadows, smaller and smaller, of those above you. You feel that you are further and further away and you scream in a transformed language, increasingly different from theirs. You start to think that if it was difficult for them to understand you when they were around, now that exercise is part of the impossible. Of an impossible … so possible in the present.
You clench your fists and grasp the water, as if by slipping through your fingers it could form a real rope. And sometimes … someone stops you, surprises you and you regain your faith. You feel silly for having lost her, for having overestimated the distance, but be careful because there are few feelings that are more comforting than the one that someone really cares about you. Enough to change the script.
Other times nobody does.
