Loneliness

My neighbor across the street, the son that takes care of his mother, told me today he spends most of his time alone. He said that sometimes he doesn't see anyone for several weeks, even months. Except for his mother, of course. Said he doesn't have many friends. He seemed sad and lonely.

My neighbor next door, the man who has some mental challenges due to a head injury suffered when he was a teenager, has told me on more than one occasion how lonely he is. He spends months alone. He talks to no one but me, usually across the fence. Or when he comes over to borrow three dollars for cigarettes. Other than that, his brother visits maybe once or twice a year, his sister, who lives just around the corner, never comes. He has no friends except for the twin white cats, named Kitty and Cat, who showed up on his doorstep a couple years ago. And me. He plays a mean electric guitar, bass, and drums. He says he wishes there was somebody he could play music with. So he puts on his sunglasses, sets up his drum kit outside on the lawn, and gives a concert to an imaginary audience. The show ends when the cops show up. "You didn't call the police on me, did you?" he will ask me.  "No, not me," I answer. He tears down his drums, defeated, and retreats to the darkness of his stark house with his two cats.

I have said on more than one occasion how lonesome I am. There have been times my phone didn't ring at all for over a week or more, that I neither saw nor heard from any friends or family. Times when I would go to the hardware store just to have a conversation with someone other than myself. They know my name and are always glad to see me. I don't feel so lonely there. Sometimes I would wonder how long it would take for someone to find my body if I fell over dead one day. My poor beagle.

The neighbor kitty-corner from me is a widow whose grouchy husband died about three years ago. She lives alone with her little dog. Sometimes she has family visit. Most times she is alone. She is a staunch Republican, but she still waves to me when I drive by. Sometimes I think about taking her a pie or cookies or something, but I never do.

The neighbors to the south of me are a Korean couple who I have spoken to only twice. They go to work and come home, very rarely going outside. Once in awhile his brother and sister-in-law stop by. Other than that they have no friends come to visit. They do not talk much to their neighbors. I imagine they might feel alone, too.

How strange.