There are many kinds and degrees of loneliness.
There is the poignant loneliness of watching moonlight on snow in midwinter, or of standing at the top of a mountain, or being on your own in the center of a crowd in a great city, or snug in your house on a rainy Saturday, tucked under a blanket with a mug of something hot.
There is the sublime loneliness of the artist which sharpens sensitivities and heightens creativity—in small doses. There is the energizing loneliness of being misunderstood, which can come with a shot of “I’ll show you” stye resolve. There’s the delightful loneliness of the inveterate daydreamer, the kind that lets you imagine that the meet-cute is just around the corner or that the rescue is on its way.
There is the hopeful loneliness of wanting to be seen, which can stave off the deeper, more ruinous, loneliness of being overlooked. You can go a long time on getting yourself and your life in good shape and ready to be seen and actualized and even fallen in love wi…