A Tale for the Lonely

Dear Koko,

Can I call you Koko?

I have no other names springing into my head right now; well, none besides Koko. I wonder what it means.

Mo went to bed earlier tonight and I was left working on some freelance website, on my design portfolio. I’m trying my hand at freelance work; a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Money is not always easy to come by these days.

If you’re wondering what time it is, it’s 2:50 A.M.

I should be asleep especially because I have an appointment today by 1 P.M. I wish I didn’t have to go. But I have no option.

Koko, loneliness is a bad thing.

You have to deal with the feeling of being alone and being without someone to talk to. The people in the churches say you should talk to God. I try to do that, but sometimes, on some days, it doesn’t work. Like today.

I’ve lain in bed and gotten up a few times. I feel like I could just cry. But I won’t. It’s not always this way, the loneliness. I think it’s just more noticeable these days that I have someone I can talk to almost every time and want to talk to all the time. I guess loneliness is harder with love.

But let me tell you what I’ve been up to.

I worked on the a few monograms for D’ and then on the freelance website till the images for my last project would not upload to give a thumbnail. Then I had a cup of beef and tomato noodles after I tried to play some games on my phone and they wouldn’t keep away the sadness.

So, while I ate, I started reading The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I read it once when I was much younger; I’d like to read it again now that I’m older and have more understanding. Might I add that I think I’m more critical now than I’ve ever been.

The book reading was going well and I climbed into bed after I was done eating my cup of noodles – I washed the cup packaging that came with it and hope to use it for some DIY project (I don’t know which one yet). But I felt alone again and headed back tot he kitchen for some bread and Nutella. The bread was soft and the Nutella spread was so nice with it. Mo is afraid I’ll get addicted to Nutella. I won’t.

Then I tried to drink water from a large bottle without a cup. The water rushed out and splashed onto the front of my hoodie and the side of the cupboard and the floor. And, somehow, that pesky cupboard opened on its own and I would have had to wake the entire house shutting it; it doesn’t shut easily -you practically have to slam it to get it to shut.

I mopped up the water and climbed back into bed. Mo’s perfume called me from the letter he left so lovingly beside my bed. The loneliness grew stronger as I picked it and sniffed at it.

Koko, it’s bearable. But I’d rather not bear it.

I feel lonely. And I don’t know what to do about it. But I should go to bed now.

I’m thinking about doing some reading before I fall asleep.

My eyes are heavy.

Good night, Koko.

Thank you for talking.



  1. I will often design to push back reality. Hoping I will create a new reality. But I’d rather have peanut butter other than hazelnut on my bread. All the same, eating works.
    Consistently deep piece Simi.



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