I am never lonely in the classical sense.

None of us really are if we think about it -

Each time I hang a roll of wallpaper

My alcoholic father is there,

Slurring his speech and staggering

While he tells me how to do a perfect job.

And his posthumous advice is invaluable,

His drunken antics hilarious -

Now that time and distance have faded the wounds

Left by watching an addict devolve

Throughout my teenage years.

Each time I bake a loaf of bread from scratch,

Or peel potatoes,

I hear my mother humming tunelessly

And the sense of her presence fills the room

As the dog mooches around and her words

Of advice drift through my mind.

Over twenty years dead and she's still teaching me.

Each time I see a meme that reminds me of a friend

A friend I've lost through time and distance and disagreement

For a moment they are with me

And I see their reaction in my mind's eye.

It's as if we never parted, for a moment.

And the reasons we're apart may still be valid,

But the good times remain and repeat on me,

Like metaphysical bacon - but in a good way.

Loneliness for me is not being alone,

For the people who've impacted my life have made a dent in me.

And that impression bears their form, their wit, their scent.

Loneliness is being misunderstood,

Disenfranchised, excluded.

Loneliness is being unseen.

Invisible.