"When You Were Gone and So Alone"

I don't know. I just don't know. Tonight, I was hit by this overwhelming wall of loneliness and I was forced out of my apartment by it. I have friends; I know people care about me. I got an e-mail from my mother just today telling me she was mailing me Christmas decorations so I wouldn't have to hang out with the Hell Birthday people just to get a string of lights. I was talking to a friend online. But the loneliness still came, so I went out searching for human interaction.

It worked. I don't feel overwhelmed anymore. I came back to some messages letting me know how people care. The thing that caused the loneliness is still there, though, lurking beneath the surface. Not knowing what is causing it is necessarily creating some deep confusion.

In French class today, we were discussing superlatives, and I came across the word pire, meaning "worst." My mind, seeking to store it in long-term memory, remembered a line from a French poem I have memorized.

C'est bien la pire peine

The word for pain (peine) is the same word as punishment in French, which I find interesting. But it is the worst pain... the worst pain is not to know. Not to know, but to hurt still. That's a basic translation of the last stanza.

I just think I've changed. Last year, I could be the trivial friend. That was my job. I entertained people, and we had fun. Then I realized what it was like to not be the trivial friend for once, and I can't be happy in that position for long anymore. Joking about sincere emotions no longer has the appeal it once did. I need something deeper, something more real to hold to. Add it to the catalogue of things I no longer am and realize when my freshman year friends return, they will not know me.