There are days that the path I walk is particularly lonely. Sometimes I love that. Sometimes I hate it. I go through cycles of needing great amounts of time alone and of needing to be incredibly close to others. And therein lies the plight. I would not say that I lack people who care for me, but rather the problem lies with the depth to which they care.
I guess it is hard for someone like me. I tend to care deeply about everyone. More deeply than other people ever care for me. I don’t mind always being there for others, but I want someone who cares just as deeply for me. But I suppose that is not the only problem. People don’t understand me. Lonely are the eyes that see as no one else sees. Lonely is the mind that thinks and dreams as no one else thinks and dreams. Lonely the heart that loves as no one else loves.
Then, there is, as with everything, a silver lining. In my loneliness, I have grown strong to reach out to others who are lonely. In my solitude, I have come to learn a depth of trust in God that few know. In isolation, I have found that I am not so very alone.
I no longer seek to shine amongst the sun. Light shines brightest when it is surrounded by darkness. Even a mustard seed, a needle, of light appears as a column of radiance. And so I shine (try my best to shine is perhaps more accurate). Some men are made for the dark, and perhaps I should take it as compliment of highest order that I seem to number amongst these ranks.
My faith has scaled the mountains of doubt and found them lacking. It has been forged and tempered in the fires of suffering and sorrow. And I am the better for it. In the heat of battle, it does not break nor dull, but rather seems to grow all the stronger for its being tested.
And so in my aloneness, my roots have grown down deep. Wide and strong, they are planted in rock and stone, unmoving. I have been given time to bloom and flourish. I don’t know if that would have ever come without time.
Still I am given pause for lack of one with whom to share my faith, my heart, my life, this world. I can and have lived without one; I do not need one. One is all I want.
That may be the most wonderful thing: to be wanted though you aren’t needed. It is not out of necessity that you are desired. But to be desired in and of yourself. Yes, that is what I want. Not out of pity, not out of benevolence, not out of generosity or requirement. I want to be wanted for me.