I am not lonely, mostly.
I mostly have full days and full thoughts and full plans. Mostly.
Over and underneath all this fullness, like a needle and thread, is sometimes woven a very strange loneliness. There is no reason for it, or at least no reason I will admit. The Lord has made my life full. The over-the-top, splashing-out-on-all-sides kind of full. I can find a hundred things to love every morning before I get out of bed – before coffee and before my heels click out the door. A hundred is a lot and it could probably be more if my mind worked better that early.
Maybe the weather makes me this way – thoughtfully theorizing with my cups full of tea and thinking about… well, me. Lonely is really a very selfish state of mind and that’s probably why I won’t admit to having one.
It usually works out because I am not lonely, mostly.
Then that little needle and thread starts to weaving and I end up with a patchwork quilt I can curl up inside.