Lonely

There's this beautiful poem about being lonely:

Song by Adrienne Rich You're wondering if I'm lonely: OK then, yes, I'm lonely as a plane rides lonely and level on its radio beam, aiming across the Rockies for the blue-strung aisles of an airfield on the ocean. You want to ask, am I lonely? Well, of course, lonely as a woman driving across country day after day, leaving behind mile after mile little towns she might have stopped and lived and died in, lonely If I'm lonely it must be the loneliness of waking first, of breathing dawns' first cold breath on the city of being the one awake in a house wrapped in sleep If I'm lonely it's with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore in the last red light of the year that knows what it is, that knows it's neither ice nor mud nor winter light but wood, with a gift for burning For some reason it is speaking to me tonight and I feel like that little rowboat.  I am that woman driving across the country without stopping, mile after mile.  I am in a house wrapped in sleep at first light. I'm not necessarily sad, just sort of lonely.  I've reached a point in my life where it's not easy to make friends anymore, and the ones I have, I've grown far away from.  It's hard to find something in common with married women, when I'm single.  It's hard to find something in common with stay-at-home moms, I work full time.  It's hard to find something in common with a lot of people around me right now for some reason and I think it's wearing on me. Now I'm sounding quite morose.  Another blog to the universe, the cyber-space void where it's so vast that it makes it easy for your words to never be heard.  But maybe I like it that way.  No one to see my loneliness.  I can hide behind this cheery profile picture, looking sassy, and wishing I felt that way all the time.