Soap operas are the ultimate story. There’s always something happening, and even the tiniest event becomes big drama. Real life isn’t like that. In real life, there are moments when nothing is happening, and I’m in one of those moments now.

It’s not like I’m idle. I have tons of work on my desk, and just as many chores. There are still bills to be paid, goals to achieve, laundry to do, a house that desperately needs to be cleaned. But right now, it feels like there’s nothing really urgent in my life, and nothing specific to look forward to.

I suppose it’s because the last few months have been so hectic and stressful. There were so many things hanging in the balance – drama at work, health problems, family issues. There was always something to keep me pre-occupied. Now everything has resolved itself, but I have none of the peace or excitement I expected. Instead I have this vacuum that I don’t know how to fill.

I’m going through something. I don’t know what that thing is. I tried to talk about it, but it’s hard to talk about stuff when you don’t know what that stuff is. I suppose that’s the limitation of words. They can’t describe things they can’t define. Maybe there are things in life that are simply beyond words.

I often say I’d like to have someone in my life who needs me in the exact same way that I need them. But what I’d really like is not to need anyone at all. Because if I didn’t need anyone, then I’d never be disappointed. But then again, if I didn’t need anyone,  I guess I wouldn’t be human.

I heard this speech a few weeks ago. It was at the end of an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, which I rarely watch. I remember hearing the words and feeling they expressed exactly what I felt, both then and now. When Meredith said those words, she was talking about someone she had lost. I haven’t lost anyone, but I wish I had. Because now I feel like I need someone – or something – that doesn’t really exist, and I think that hurts a lot more than finding that someone and then losing them.

There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ’cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone, because what if you learn that you need love and you don’t have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is death ends. This? It could go on forever. – Meredith Grey, Season 7, Episode 22.

I realise that feeling alone and being alone are two different things. And I know I am surrounded by people who deeply care for me. Doesn’t really stop the feeling though, the sense of isolation, that inner niggling that no one really ‘gets you’ and no one ever will. They might like you, tolerate you, maybe even accept you, but they’ll never embrace, love, or comprehend all that you are. Real life isn’t a rom-com after all.

But then again, everyone feels that way. Maybe we all have the same unmet needs and just explore those needs in different ways. Maybe the person who pledges celibacy does it for the same reason as the one that effs anything in a skirt. Maybe they’re both afraid they’ll never find ‘the one’, and just have different ways t cope with that. Maybe deep down, I’m not really that different after all.

Religion says the only one that can truly can meet your needs – all your needs – is God. Well, I talk to God pretty often. And sometimes I wish he’d just talk back. Not in a book, or a rainbow, or in the eyes of my child. But in words, in conversations I can hear and understand. Because in times like this I feel alone, and maybe the God that created me – the one that fully understands me – is the only one that can help.

♫ The Message ♫ ColdPlay ♫