let me count the ways

I have spent the last five months feeling lonely in as many ways as Eskimos describe snow. There is voyeur loneliness where I feel social just being in the checkout line of a grocery store. There is dirty house slippers loneliness where I feel embarrassed to pull up the shades of the house in case someone catches a glimpse of me from the street. There’s cry in your beer loneliness (where I am at tonight). There is confident loneliness like earlier when I was running the dogs in 57 degree grey at the park. There is good radio loneliness when I am driving back home from somewhere I’d rather be. There is holiday decorations loneliness where I pretend to be a part of Thanksgiving, Christmas, fall or winter. There is talk to the dogs loneliness, generally enjoyed best while sweeping, and also close kin to thousandth time you’ve cleaned the house and no one sees it but you loneliness. There is Qwest loneliness, not dissimilar from voyeur loneliness, where I talk to Qwest customer service about my, and their, personal lives much longer than we discuss phone service. There is pace the house loneliness that seems to occur every evening before work. There is online loneliness where I look for other places to be or ways to get other places than here. There is movie loneliness that is never distracting enough. It’s a pity party on 157th tonight. Anyone is invited.