The paradox of being lonely

Sometimes, I tend to dream about being loved. Being loved just for the sake of it. No questions, no fears, no complications. Just love. A hug, a touch, a sleep. 

Then I wake up to what is now. The hollow vapidness of the empty bed strikes me as I tend to look out of my window to a large building that simply looks like it will touch the sky someday. I wake up to what is now and feel alone, hollow, a stick in my heart. "If only I was loved", I think. I then proceed to go through the day with whatever has humanely been expected of me. Work, studies and some chilling time here and there. After that brief moment in the morning, I never reflect on wanting to feel loved again throughout the day, instead I actively avoid it. 

THE PARADOX OF BEING LONELY 

The subway breezes by. The station is silent although there are about 128 people standing right next to me. Most of them on their phones, looking down at the void of content. I usually do that as well, it's easier to be deeply submerged into the digital world than to look up and see. But, I have been doing less of it lately and trying to understand myself a little more and I have realized one important complexity of me. I have what I term, a paradox of loneliness. 

The subway's door opens up, it's fully packed. The Shepard Yonge line is not always like this, most of the times its just old asian people travelling to and back from work or white people just trying to go to downtown. But it was unusually full then. I entered. My body leaning on the glass frame next to the door. The door closes and the subway moves. Usually I have an earphone plugged in my ears as to avoid listening to the world and to myself. Distractions has always been a key to living a life but my earphones died, coincidentally and I was left with nothing to really hide behind. So I stayed, stood up, leaning on the glass starting at nothingness until I heard a girl speaking Nepali. 

I looked at her. The crowd was heavy and she was short. I could barely make out her face but from what I saw, I knew she was pretty. Another station arrived, people got off. Now leaning on my glass I could see her clearly.  She looked nice, she spoke with a charisma I have yet to encounter in Canada. An innocence only you will feel if you listen. She felt like someone I could walk up to and have a conversation. She was talking about movies, about Masan. That made her even more attractive, at least to me. She glanced at me I was caught red handed listening. She seemed to be used to this, guys in subways staring. 

For the first time in quiet a while, I felt the urge to say hello. I could've, maybe I should've but I didn't and that is where the complexity of loneliness lies for me. It has been a year or so after my break up with a girl that I dearly loved. I find it terribly frustrating that even after a year and even after me not knowing who she is anymore, I am still stuck. Stuck in the perpetual cycle of wanting to be loved, not by anyone else but her yet I can see. I can see what is life and I can see where I am and where she is and how nothing will ever happen but the heart doesn't listen. It lays on itself, cries and always deeply dives into nostalgia. 

I have never been the guy who could bounce around with girls. I have always been that hopeless romantic. That, "Let's sleep under the tree and look at the moon." romantic. That, "I won't give up." romantic. And I think, it's painful to be that way. I have friends who bounce around with girls, who suggests me to do so too and honestly, I can, I do carry a charisma with me that I rarely strike up. I have actually tried to talk to someone just to feel what it feels like to be disattached yet pretend to care and I realized simply, I am not that person. I can't seem to just pretend to like someone. I can't seem to hold a conversation without my heart being in it and I can't seem to bounce around girls simply for the sake of fulfilling my loneliness. 

Quiet a while ago, in I think July, I got a email from my ex-girlfriend after I posted a blog about wanting to write about her. In that mail she mentioned that I was looking for love, seeking for it desperately and that is not how life would be. I told her then and I am writing the same thing here now, I am done with seeking for love, it's only those momentary collapse of my walls that makes me vulnerable to wanting to be hugged but at the same time not just by anybody but someone I love. 

Canada, adulthood & life itself has been a deadly combination for me when it comes to forming a bond. I have the tendency to despise people. To look at them and see nothing but a broken shape of their projected selves. This in turn makes me go away. -------( I will continue writing this after I come back from work today, hopefully)  

See this is what I am talking about. I went to shoot reels for Splash. I was feeling a bit isolated on the way but then I locked in and I am super happy right now. I needed no love, no hugs, no nothings. I am super locked in and going to work till night on editing stuff and do gym and just you know feel better. This is what I am talking about. This is exactly the paradox of loneliness. I was so vapid, hollow and empty in the morning. Then I left and I felt no ache. Maybe it was writing this blog as well and I have no idea who is reading this. There is always one person reading this. Whoever it is, I admire your resiliency cause you are literally searching for this hahaha. :( okay bye.