When the house grows quiet, loneliness grows louder
It’s a weekend afternoon. The TV is on, but you’re not watching—only fidgeting with the remote.
Scenes
- When the house grows quiet, loneliness grows louder — It’s four on a weekend afternoon. There are still things to do, but you turn on the TV first. The quiet sounds so loud, as if they’ve left you all alone.
- No one comes to mind to call — You’re less lonely when there’s sound, but you can’t think of anyone to contact. You can’t put down the remote, afraid to admit you’re lonely.
- You watch the remote more than the screen — It’s four on Saturday afternoon. You leave a variety show on, but you don’t watch it—you just handle the remote. When the ads end, you look for another sound.
- Loneliness signals a break in connection — Loneliness isn’t only about having no one around; it signals a break in connection. Covering it with noise may dull it for a while, but it makes the connection you need harder to see.
- Name the loneliness first — Today, turn off the TV and sit for just three minutes. Try naming what’s in your heart: “I’m lonely. I need someone’s voice.”
- It’s okay if the loneliness remains — It’s okay if you still feel lonely after naming it. From there, we’ll slowly look together, alongside your heart, at which connection to choose.
Stories by Dalbit
- Dalbit
- When a notification comes in, my shoulders tense up first.
- On payday, I want to ask how you are first
- When I think of my child’s report card, I end up grading myself too.
- After hearing about my friend, my own day feels small.
- Even in the salon mirror, the silence between me and my husband follows me.
- Folding laundry, I start worrying about my child again
- In the family chat, it’s always Mom who speaks
- When the elevator doors close, I want a moment alone.