The Sounds and The Echoes... in Life as I know it...

As I lay here, the room cast in darkness, the light playing through the windows and streaming through the blinds, I hear the echoes and voices from outside, each one teasing me, stinging like alcohol on a fresh wound.

I hear the neighbors' toddler, making noises and laughing, experiencing her new surroundings and perceiving them for the first time. Her mother's voice echoes joy and love, while she sits on her father's lap wrapped in love. The purest form of love between a mother, a father and a child. Her life lies ahead of her, not a worry on her mind.

I hear a group of young women and men, tourists I think, I hear some British accents. They're lying out by the pool, bathing in the setting sun. The end of another week which brings meaning to so many, but to me is nothing but another day. Another number on the calender to be crossed off tomorrow. I hear their music playing loudly and cheerfully as they bellow with laughter and are excited for the night ahead. Where they might go and what they might experience, I don't know and neither do they, but they are young, free, brave and together.

I hear a voice over a tannoy, probably coming from the beach. The music of the night already starting to play. The streets will be buzzing tonight with the sounds of joy, laughter, love and happiness. There must be an event going on at the beach, they often have them and close off a section that they fill with chairs, tables and a makeshift bar. The men in their shorts and their sunglasses, the sun reflecting off their backs and the women in their bikinis, their tan-lines sneaking through as their clothing moves while they laugh, chat and enjoy the scenes. I'm sure hormones will be running high tonight as the drink flows and the opposite sexes start to seek each other out.

All of these noises and echoes, stings my soul and tears my heart. Drawing the moisture from my eyes. The droplets form and with a blink they start rolling down. They reach the chin and either roll down the neck or drop on the chest, each one following their own destined path, or are they? Is there such a thing as destiny, or are we all just blowing around, the product of evolution, a complete accident? These noises and echoes hurt me. They magnify my loneliness, my separation, my story as an outsider. I try to drown them out with any kind of noise, but it only seems to make them louder.

I start to think back, to all those I have loved. Georgina, with her blue eyes, blonde hair and her glow. Joanne with her sweet smile and her soothing voice. Caroline, with her radiating happiness and joy, offering me nothing but love. My thoughts drift to the sounds and echoes she might be experiencing. Is she also laughing, happy and cheering? With each of these thoughts comes the feeling of a bullet to my chest. I have nobody left. Not one. My few attempts at reaching out being met with no response. I guess everybody has moved on and found new lives and I am, as usual, struggling behind. How can things that meant so much just disappear? Time can be very cruel.

The night has only begun and I fear for what more I might experience before I manage to be rescued by sleep. It's not even 7 yet, the sun is still up. What emotions will this night conjure up? What memories? What thoughts? Thoughts and feelings magnifying my loneliness and tearing at the still healing scars on my heart. Tears that were inflicted through words and through actions. Through consequence. You said that our two islands would merge, the villagers joining together, where they will sing and dance under the sun, which they did. Now they have drifted away, torn away by fate, by consequence. Prematurely, left only with the memories, My island now solitary is mourning. Mourning yet another of these partings, each one seemingly more devastating than the last. They say you can plan a pretty picnic, but you can't predict the weather, so I guess words and promises can never be set in stone. Life might just have different plans for you.

Where my life is going, I don't know. The scars and wounds I carry are starting to hurt again. The sounds and echoes causing them to inflame.