You get so alone at times that it just makes sense

My favorite Bukowski book is titled, "You get so alone at times that it just makes sense." I think about this line every time I pass my book shelf. It sticks with me for atleast a few moments, sometimes even a longer amount of time. It explains so much in my life, because there have been so many times that I have felt that sense of clarity that comes with an extensive amount of loneliness, when everything just seems to make sense. In times of solitude, you evaluate your life and your problems, or sometimes your lack of problems, and wonder what exactly you have to be sad about when the world keeps rotating and you seem to be breathing in another day. You don't necessarily have to be facing an obstacle to feel sadness; it could simply be that something is missing. Isn't something always missing? We go through life leaving pieces of ourselves in sacred places that have made us happy, or with people who have given us a better understanding of the world, but there are some places and some people that we will never see again to recover those pieces. No one is entirely whole. No one is ever pefectly content. We are all missing pieces of ourselves. The inevitable fact is that you will never be completely content in your life; however, what would life be if you were not incomplete? What is life without pain or emptiness? Most of all, when you are completely alone, you think about all of the reasons why you are the only person in that room, and after so much thought and evaulation, you finally find that reason, even if it very simple and effortless, and it just makes sense.