Alone Among the Crowd (Written April 13, 2015)
Alone am I that look upon
The crowd that merry be.
Alone am I that sings the song
Of lonesome misery.
For, though the crowds may merry be,
And though I stand there too,
The crowds may laugh with merry glee
But my sorrow blooms anew.
Yes, though I stand there in the crowds
A part of their kind I am not,
And beside their friendship praised aloud
Is not the friend I’ve sought
This cannot be the place I seek
For, though I’m welcomed here,
The bond twixt crowd and I is weak
And they do not call me near.
And so alone, apart I stand,
Not loved, yet unloved no less,
And though some love my heart demands
With it I am not blessed.
As they say, the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. I don’t know that I have ever been truly hated. I’ve been feared. I’ve been underestimated. I’ve been despised and I’ve been envied. But I have not been hated any more than I have been loved. Perhaps because I am not forward with my affection, or perhaps because I am too honest and too insistent that I remain myself rather than be like others, I don’t generally attract the attention of others. People don’t talk to me. People don’t seek me out. I am never turned away when I (though I rarely do) seek others, but neither am I welcomed. No one drives me away, but I am forever on the outskirts. I walk the fringes of society; not because I do not seek it, but because society does not seek me.
I almost think I would prefer hate. If they hated me I could feel justified in antagonizing them. If they hated me I would have an enemy to combat. If they hated me I would feel no obligation to seek their company. But they don’t hate me. They don’t even care about me. I mean precious little to anybody. And I don’t know why.
And, somehow, being thought little of is worse than being despised, for at least being thought ill of is being thought of at all.
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