Alone loneliness stories

galaxy13 Just another writer
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago


Rain. Thunder. Cold.

You look out the window, watching droplets of water trickle down the glass, some falling straight down while others stick as the wind slowly nudges them into submission, eventually falling with the others.

Your eyes follow one droplet, turning and falling, being pushed around by others, it tries so hard to go its own way, away from all the others, its own path.

But the wind forces it into one direction. Down.

You laugh to yourself. Stop personifying everything! Not everything is a metaphor for life, what are you? Some philosophical monk?

But... you can't help it, can you? Maybe that's why...

A bright light catches your eye, flashing. Car lights. Several of them, so many cars, so many people.

You wonder, who are these people? What do they need to do? Where do they need to be? Who are they meeting?

Do they see me?

Perhaps if you didn't focus on the small things every time, get caught up in every single detail, worry over what could happen, ask all these questions. Maybe, just maybe you wouldn't be...

No, no! Of course not, it can't for some superficial reason like that, its got to be something else right? Definitely something else... right?

The sound of ceramic being placed onto a hardwood table interrupts your thoughts.

"Here is your coffee, let me know if you need anything else, ok?"

I do.

"Ah it's alright, thank you." You reply.

She turns around and begins to leave.

Don't go.

"It smells great!" You call out.

She twirls around and flashes a smile, and then makes her way to another table. Such a nice smile, so pure, so... happy.

You look down at your coffee, cupping it with both hands, the bitter yet pleasant scent fills your nostrils, the dark brown liquid swirling gently and smoothly,

inviting you to take part in the dance of roasted and grinded flavours. Raising the cup to your mouth, you take a sip.

Warm. It's so warm.

The warmth spreads throughout your body, from your chest to your arms to your fingers. From your legs to your feet and right down to the very tips of your toes. Warmth.

But the warmth soon fades, so you take another sip. Warm, then cold. Another sip. Warm, cold.

Another sip.

Another sip. Another sip.

Another sip. Another sip. Another sip.

Cold. Empty.

You stare into your empty cup. You want to get another, but... what point is there?

If you ask for another, they'll have to use more coffee beans, and there are only so many coffee beans they can supply, they then have to grow more,

there's not enough water to keep growing them so it'll all run out eventually.

So then why do you do the same? Why do you keep wanting more when you know it'll come to an end?

Then it's fine to be alone, right? It'll be over anyways so it's fine


It was warm. It was so warm.

So why now is it so cold? Why does everything feel so empty now? Why...

Why am I so alone?

Please... why...

A lump in your throat begins to form. Your vision begins to cloud. You try so desperately to fight the tears, clutching onto the fabric of your seat, blinking furiously, shaking your head.

But nothing works.

Why do I feel that no matter what I do, its meaningless, pointless, that no one is going to recognise me, that I'm just going to be forgotten.

Your tears burst through, just like the droplets on the window, they all come flowing out, uncontrollable.


You've always wanted someone to reach out to you, talk to you, look at you, be with you. Just someone else's voice to listen to.


It hurts so much, why does it hurt so much? You tried to find ways to ease the pain, trying to talk to others, going online, forums, communities... anything!


But it wasn't enough, that aching, the coldness, it ate away at you.

It hurt so much that you came all the way here, hoping that someone would find you, hoping that someone would help you, hoping that there was someone out there who would give you warmth again.

Hoping that there was someone.

Leaning against the window, you let your tears fall, the coldness of the window doesn't feel any different to the one you feel, your tears aren't any different to the ones on the window.

Maybe... I'm just like this window... see through, invisible, crying.


Several minutes pass, and you see the waitress coming to your table.

Trying to tidy yourself up, she hands you the bill.

"You don't need to worry about paying, someone else already did for you"

You stare blankly at her, "Huh?"

She smiles at you, "Uh huh, oh, and they also left a note for you"

She places a folded piece of paper in front of you and collects the empty cup of coffee, leaving you with nothing but a note.

You stare at the paper, still reeling from the idea that someone was caring enough to pay for your small cup of coffee,

that there was even someone willing to pay even the smallest ounce of attention to you.

Grabbing the piece of paper, you unfold it.

Dear friend,

I hope you enjoyed your cup of coffee; you don't need to worry, I really did pay for it. I just wanted to tell you that you're not alone, no one is.

You may feel like you're invisible, you may feel like no one on this earth is aware of your existence, and the emptiness that follows is painful, so so painful.

You hurt so much that you just want someone, someone that is willing to listen and be with you. Just be there.

But I wanted to let you know that I'm willing to listen, that even if no one else reached out to you or even bothered to hear a single sound from you, I'm here. You're not alone.

When you're finished reading this, if you want, you can come meet me outside, luckily it's stopped raining, I'll be wearing a red scarf.

Tears start to well up within you again, except this time it's not out of pain or sadness, loneliness or longing, but relief and joy that there was indeed someone out there,

someone who was willing to listen and relieve the cold pain that was there for so long.

Someone was always there.

You clutch the letter close to your chest.

Thank you, thank you so much

You look out the window, the rain disappeared and the moonlight seeping through, the light bouncing off the wet roads and concrete, gently lighting up your vision.

You look around and a red flicker catches your eye, you see someone standing in the moonlight, looking up at the night sky.

With a red scarf flailing gently in the wind.

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