In this world, there are many ways in which a person can be considered alone. By the dictionary's definition, you're alone when you're without company. Fair enough, but it's hard to go somewhere and not be surrounded by people (even if you don't know most of them), so we would have to take company to mean friends, for it to make any sense. Yet another meaning of alone is to say that someone isn't in a romantic relationship - in fact, many languages use nearly the same word for single (as in Marital status: Single) as for alone. This is all very interesting; much like steveometry, it's something most people could care less about.

Why this rant? Well, I've noticed a difference lately. I don't know what happened, but before, I'd always felt a bit alone, though not in the regular sense; I certainly have friends and a (somewhat) caring family, and I'm surrounded by either of them virtually all the time, except when sleeping in the privacy of my own room. Not that I object to this. No, this feeling of loneliness was perhaps better described as a feeling that something important was missing.

Not knowing when it started, not knowing what caused it, I moved on, as people do. I didn't search for the cause; at the time, it seemed a fruitless venture that would have caused me more hurt than good. Instead, I got used to the feeling, and with time I stopped noticing it. I thought it had gone away for good, only appearing from time to time as shadows in my dreams, sometimes taking human shape. Those were enjoyable dreams.

I had decided to be satisfied in knowing that the thing I was missing, I would never find.

Then one day, it just appeared. She came to me, proving that I had been wise not to search for her - if I had, I would never have found her, nor would she have come to me. Besides, searching for something that will come to you by itself is a foolish errand. Patience is a virtue, as the wise constantly say. My patience paid off.

The feeling disappeared. There's no void in my life anymore.

I'm not alone.