So, This Is What Loneliness Feels Like

It wanes a soft, subtle ache; unrelenting, whispering in my ear just loud enough to remind me. As I pace, I pick up a book and thumb through the pages with undue concern. I glance again at the unwavering, uncaring time. Outside the children still play, the cars still buzz by; for they don't know that I'm here, and lonely. Where are the arms that will hold me when I'm 60 years of age? The longing gaze that tells me I am still meant to be here. This is not the grand solitude that I've always longed for. This isn't what the end was supposed to be. Where do I belong for the rest of my life? Not here, not now. For if this is what loneliness feels like, I won't stay.