Am I An Eleanor Rigby?

Sometimes I can feel so lonely. Actually, I feel rather lonely a great deal of the time. I can spend all day with people, at work, at home, etc., and then when I go to bed at night, I can feel so completely alone. I fall asleep in my room, on my bed, with the lights off, the TV off, and the ceiling fan circling above me, alone. Then I wake up in that same room alone every morning. I can sometimes wake up, and so horribly wish that there would be someone else lying in bed next to me. Someone I could put my arm around and hold, or who'd wake me up in the morning by putting his arm around me and holding me. I wish I had someone who'd go to the store with me. Someone who'd push the cart while I get all the supplies off the shelves. I wish I had someone who I could talk to lovingly. I wish I could be playful and romantic. I wish I had someone I could cook supper for and serve it by candlelight. I wish I had someone I could buy Christmas and birthday gifts for because I was in love. Not just people whom I love, such as friends or family, but someone I could be in love with. And who'd love me in return. I wish sometimes so badly that I could have a boyfriend. I wish I could feel the closeness of another guy holding me. I wish I could hold hands with him and kiss him. Yes, even sex would be nice. I feel a desire to be with someone that sometimes, nothing, not even God, seems to be able to satisfy within me. I then find myself turning to pornography and masturbation as a means of comforting myself. You know, I love the Internet for some reasons, but for other reasons I hate it with a passion. Blogger and email and information and all that are very good things. But all the pornography and all that other junk that makes up about ninety percent of the content on the Internet I detest so much. Even still, that doesn't keep me from falling prey to it and giving into my lustful temptations. I can look up pornography and see those other guys and somehow feel better. I oddly enough can feel close to them. Of course, this better feeling—this feeling of being close to another guy—never lasts. In fact, I tend to feel so guilty and pathetic each time after I do this that I just literally want to go crawl off under a rock somewhere and call it a quits. I feel even worse than I did to begin with. I still feel alone, but then I feel an added guilt for having given in to something I know I shouldn't have.

The other day, I was listening to the song “Eleanor Rigby” on the Beatles Love CD (I love the Beatles, by the way), and I couldn't help but wonder if I was to become an Eleanor Rigby—one of those persons who grows old and alone, and waits by the window, never knowing the joy of having someone else to share my life with. Suddenly, I felt so depressed.

“...All the lonely people...”

I try to turn to God to take care of my loneliness. I imagine His arms around me, giving me a warm and loving embrace, caring for me. He's been helping me form friendships the last couple of years to take care of this problem, and that's helped a lot too. I've made a lot of friends. But still, there are plenty of lonely days.