By Julia Djeke
I wasn’t sure if I was ready to admit that I was lonely. I couldn’t use the word “suffering” because that’s reserved for the “real” sufferers like the homeless, orphans, and abandoned veterans—so I found prettier, more poetic ways to describe my sadness. But something happened that night that I did not expect: I started to remember the feeling of community. I realized that a separation had occurred, quite unconsciously, between my communing self and the isolated person I had become. I had chosen to abandon people because New York City had abandoned me—and by making that choice, I divorced myself from the chaotic mess of human beings.