Inner Thoughts of A college Student

I finally have a moment of rest in the midst of a busy week. I can put aside the worries and stresses of the day, the paper that was due today, the draining meeting from yesterday, the people I need to call, the work that still needs to get done, the friends with whom I want to hang-out. I can hear myself think. I sit in a chair and look out the window...and realize that the ache somewhere in the bottom of me is still there. I pause as the thought takes shape in my mind, “I’m lonely…” These aren’t words I’ve often spoken to myself or to others. It’s a feeling that perhaps I haven’t even until now been very aware of in myself. Lately, though, I’ve been increasingly more aware of it. And yet…somehow I know that it’s been with me for a long time. Why should I feel lonely? I’m not technically “alone.” My roommates are in the apartment. My friends down the hall want to hang-out later. I spent a good part of the day with people I care about and an organization I’m passionate about. In fact, I more often find myself dying for quiet moments like these...when I can hear myself think and take-in all the events of the day.

And yet...I feel alone. It’s like an ache. At times, it’s dull and buried beneath the heavy load of being a busy student, a friend, a leader or mentor, a reliable member of the family. But at times like these, the dull ache becomes a sharper sting that leaves me confused. I’m a good student. I have friends and a fairly supportive family. I’m involved on and off campus. I’m even spiritual and religious. I go to church, believe in God and meaning in life. I’m trying my best to live my best and be “a person with and for others.” It’s not like my life is boring or confined either. I have fun, in moderation. I get out. I’ve had a serious relationship…

Maybe that’s what I feel is missing. I am single right now, after all. Some of the best times of my life so far were when I was in that relationship. Maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I should try to work things out again. Or maybe it’s just time to try being with someone new. I definitely miss the physical intimacy…Maybe I’m just feeling “lonely” in that sense. There’s something just really comforting about being in someone else’s arms or them being in yours…I miss those times...

Maybe it is my friends. My friends and I have been growing apart more and more since they were abroad last quarter. I mean, we still talked while they were gone. But we went through different things. We’re different people now. I’ve been feeling like they don’t understand me as much as they used to. Or maybe we just weren’t that close to begin with…Either way, I kind of wish that I had friends I have more in common with…who understand me more and who I just enjoy being around more. When I was in that relationship I felt more understood, felt like I was being more myself. Maybe it’s just the people I’m around right now…

Looking at my life, I know that I’ve done a lot of the “right things.” I look at some of the other people I know and wonder why I still feel this way. I see the fraternity guys next door drunk every weekend. I see the girl in my program on her fifth boyfriend in the past three years. I see my peers who only care about getting the highest paying job they can after graduation. I see friends spending all their time trying to solve the world’s problems but forgetting to take care of themselves and burning-out in the process.

I can tell myself that I know they’re not really happy. Not really. Deep down they probably feel the way I do, too...It just feels like I’m the only one a lot of the time. But maybe they do know something I don’t. Maybe they have figured out something I haven’t...

For all my efforts, though, I’m still sitting in this chair, staring out the window…lonely. It’s like this itch I can’t scratch. A restlessness. A question that’s always in the back of my mind… “What’s missing? What else is there?” Sometimes I just ignore it. I know a lot of the things I need and want to do can act as “distractions”—school, work, involvements, friends, relationships, career ambitions and money, TV, exercise and looks, service…No matter what I do, though, it seems it’s never enough. I’m never fully “satisfied.” When I finally slow down, the emptiness is still there…

Sometimes it feels like a fire, sometimes it’s more of a burning ache. Those are the times when I feel alive, like I am really living this life and getting it “right.” But I want more of that and can’t seem to get enough. It’s a zeal…but a dangerous one, one that demands more and more to be satisfied (if it can ever be satisfied). It can be good motivation…but also exhausting. At times, it’s a hopelessness. A feeling that no matter how hard I try, nothing in this life will ever really make me permanently happy. And that can be a depressing thought. What’s the point of trying, then?

My roommate walks in and asks if I want to go to dinner with everyone. I say yes, glad for the chance to take my mind off all this. Still, I know these thoughts will be with me as I go, waiting for me when I stop and slow down again. I shake off the thoughts for the moment and get out of my chair, telling myself that I’m just over-thinking things. Maybe I just need to have a relaxing night out and get some sleep…