Why Are We Lonely, It’s Too Easy to Let Things Slide

This week, I’m taking some time away from work and visiting with family and friends, but I wanted to share something on the blog.

I had dinner with two dear friends the other night. We all used to work in the same office and became great friends. Over the years, we all went our separate ways professionally, but I try to keep in touch with them both—poorly most of the time, to be honest.

Naturally, I was very excited to have dinner with them both while I was in town. Still, as we finished making our plans, I realized that while I had seen them on trips back to Ohio over the past couple of years, they hadn’t seen each other in longer than that.

I live in another state. Hundreds of miles away. Understandably, we would only be able to spend time together infrequently. They work within two blocks of each other every day.

Now, I’m not sharing this to shame them. I did plenty of good-natured shaming in person. But I think this situation illustrates something we all experience in our own relationships. We mean to keep in touch. We suggest being social. We mean to get together and reach out to our friends. But something comes up: we forget, we blow it off, promise to send a note over the weekend, try to get together after the holidays, etc. Then, something else comes up, and pretty soon, it’s been six months, a year, more.

It’s sad, but we all do it. Instead of staying connected to the people we care about, we get busy, and our actions suggest they might not be as important to us. And then, we see the chronic loneliness and mental health struggles and wonder why.

Today, sadly, I saw a social media post about the passing of someone’s old friend and her regret at “trying to get together” without actually managing to do it, and now they’re gone. It touched me. It broke my heart to know that this happened. Again, I share this not to shame anyone but because I’m also guilty. It reminded me of how many people I’ve been “meaning” to send a note to or chat with. What promise do I have that I’ll be able to do that tomorrow, next week, or “after the holidays”?

None. Not a single day is promised to us.

Send that note, make that call, and schedule that lunch or coffee. Your work, that book, or that Twitter beef can wait.