I feel forgotten

“No, I don’t feel lonely.” I keep telling my mom.

Loneliness is not the right word. It doesn’t cover the load of this feeling. I’m good alone, I can sit with myself in silence. Sometimes I even crave alone time.

So what is it? This looming feeling inside of me?

I could not put my finger on it until I spent time with a good friend this weekend. She relocated to Zurich 10 months ago and unexpectedly visited me in Milan. We talked a lot about how it is to relocate and how suddenly it feels like people are disappearing from our lives.

Then, the day after, I read this beautiful piece by Annexes, and suddenly, it clicked.

I don’t feel lonely. I feel forgotten.

And in one way or another, that’s even more painful. Maybe because I’m good alone and not good at feeling forgotten. The old, safe life doesn’t exist anymore. Neither do the routines and meetups I had with friends and family. I’m out of the picture, and out of sight is out of mind. I’m a bit ‘forgotten’.

Of course, I’m exaggerating. I know I’m not really forgotten, but with physical distance, the friendship bonds also seem to grow more distant.