10/20/2025

Despite what I often say,

I do get lonely sometimes. 

I am not so unlike others my age,

in that the dark of a night alone

can weigh heavy, 

and the dreams of a life happiest

are usually of another’s face

and a family and a homestead, 

and of course glory has always 

looked something like companionship–

I do sometimes get lonely,

and that longing must show

when times are hard,

such that my father,

his face a face of worry, asks,

“Are you doing alright by yourself?”,

but I shirk the answer in favor of easy-living,

to stay my course and say it’s the best course,

easier to commit than admit

that I do get lonely sometimes,

though I am in no need of pity 

for hope rules my ever-long heart–

hope that a love for me exists,

that is kind and gentle and 

shaped to reciprocate all that is given;

that you exist,

you who I might confess to, 

to tell you that I would like to offer everything for you,

to see in you a future that excites me,

for your eyes that look in me and see the same,

to stand before a crowd and promise

not with intent towards perfection

but with love, just love,

that one day every day will be made complete by you,

and life lived ever after will be a happy daze–

I do sometimes get lonely,

but soon I will meet you

and I’ll never be lonely again.