Page 43 - My Creative Writing Portfolio

43

I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE TO BE ALONE

I am alone again—
as though solitude knows my address
better than anyone else.

My friends say
it is circumstance,
nothing more.
But I wonder
whether solitude chooses us
long before we recognize it.

My father once spoke
of becoming an ascetic—
of walking away from the noise
of sansar,
from the bindings of duty and desire.
Yet life held him close:
family, responsibility,
the gravity of love.

Was his unfinished longing
left suspended in the air?
Did it settle quietly within me?
Am I living
what he once imagined?

I do not know.

This aloneness—
I resist it,
and I cherish it.

In solitude,
the mind becomes a mirror.
Thoughts rise and fall
like passing clouds.
There is a strange clarity—
a return to the self
without audience,
without performance.

And yet—
in that same silence
fear whispers.