Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow it’s mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer; The echoes bound to a joyful sound, But shrink from voicing care.
(Solitude – Ella Wheeler Wilcox)
There’s where I am today, in my solitude. Alone, but not lonely.