I sat by the rocks on top of the cliff over the beach that was conveniently  placed behind my school.
Or rather my school conveniently placed in front of it.
I felt alone as I sifted through my notes and waited for him to come. I hoped he would come but I did not know if he would. I was used to expecting the worst, and I convinced myself this time would be no different.

Beyond the overhang of the cliff I sat, there was a man fishing, wearing a bright pink hat and yellow shoes. He stood on a rock all alone as he intricately moved his hands along  his fishing line. I could not make out the movements but I could tell he was well rehearsed.

I kept peaking over my shoulder to see if I would see him coming to join me but he was no where in sight. As I sat there watching the fisherman, I realized I was not at all alone. A contentness  fell over me as I realized that I was never really alone. Or perhaps that being alone wasn't really being alone when you can make peace with it.

In that moment I realized what I had always realized but was never able to make peace with:
We would probably wander much of our lives alone but we ultimately get to chose if we want to be lonely or not.
Some days I will feel lonely, and other days I'd find my fisherman in the distance to find comfort in.