"You can not split the life of ours
I am Begging you, wait for me my love, but to deceive you, I do not know how...
This solitude between us, this silence inside me
It is the restlessness of living a life without you
I am begging you, wait for me! because
I can not live without you
You can not split the story of ours!"
The evening arrived and the work was not started. At home I am suffering from an upset and isolated myself. Is this my sweet home? But the house is dark, the TV is off and everything is silent. No one is here to open the door; no one is waiting for me. I am alone. The sadness of loneliness ... What else would I want but not be in solitude ...
But let me tell you something: My sadness doesn’t come from loneliness. It comes from fantasies that arise in solitude. I remember when I was younger I loved the solitude, being alone, reading, listening to some music ... So on Saturday, I prepared for a night of happy loneliness. But it was just when I sit that fantasies arose. Scenes, on the one hand, happy friends at parties, amid the chatter, the laughter, the beer. Then the scene changed: I was alone in that room. Surely no one was remembering me. At that happy party, who would remember me? And then came the sadness and I could no longer enjoy my friend loneliness. The remedy was to go out, meet with the group to find the joy of the feast. Dressing up, I went to the party ... But I realized that fantasized parties are not equal to the real parties. It was a mismatch; an inability to share things from my solitude ... The night was lost.
The flame of a candle, is opposed to the light bulbs, it is always lonely. The flame of a candle creates around it a circle of soft light that is lost in the shadows. Around it:shadows and silence. No silly chatter or easy laughter to disturb the truth of a soul. Everything is in communion. The great communions do not happen in the midst of laughter from the party. It happens, paradoxically, in the absence of the other. Whoever loves knows this. It is precisely in the absence of someone that proximity is greater, there seems to be dark corners within us that tolerate only a flickering light. A sensitive heart needs strong values. My loneliness has its own life.
Amongst the many profound things that Sartre said, this is what I love most: "No matter what they did to you. What matters is what you do with what they did to you." Stop it. Read that again. And think: Do you regret this evil that life is bringing to you? Solitude! If Sartre is right, that evil may be the place where you will plant your garden. Plant flowers in that garden so that the butterflies will come and thus you will not have to worry about running after them.
Carlos Drummond de Andrade thinks so:
"For so long I thought that the absence is lack of something and I lamented, ignorantly it.
Today I don’t regret. There is nothing missing in absence. Absence is something within me. And I feel it white, so close to me, snug in my arms that I laugh and dance in joyous exclamations , because the absence, this absence assimilated, nobody steals from me."
Alone, sick, sometimes I have terrible migraines that lasts three days and drives me crazy. I search for relief by hiking in the mountains. It is a wonderful companion! I see often, people who walks for health reasons. Unable to walk alone, go in pairs, in droves. And going talking, talking, without seeing the wonderful world around them. They speak because they can’t bear to walk alone. And, therefore, lose the greatest joy of walking, which is the joy of being in communion with nature. They do not see the trees, nor flowers, nor the clouds… they can’t feel the wind. What an unfortunate trading! People are exchanging the voices of silence by vulgar chat.
If they were alone with nature, in silence, their loneliness could make them listen to what nature has to say. Being together does not mean communion. Being together is often a terrible form of loneliness, a ruse to avoid contact with ourselves. Sometimes hell is the partner!