Top 10 Best Essays on Loneliness

I have always had a deep affection for the winter in Hanoi - the kind of winter that is full of love and nostalgia.

Winter brings to mind tenderness, longing, and a sense of vulnerability. When you find yourself alone amidst a crowd, it suddenly hits you that winter is back.

The sound of rustling leaves caught in the cool, crisp wind makes the atmosphere feel distinctly different. Hanoi may be most beautiful in the autumn, but it is in winter that the city stirs the deepest emotions.

Winter in Hanoi has its own unique color and scent. It feels like these colors and fragrances have seeped into every corner, winding through the narrow alleys of the city.

In the late afternoon, if you wander along the West Lake, you’ll find the bright red leaves of an old loc vung tree by the shore, glowing like the fading sunlight of the day.

At certain moments, you might discover a weathered banyan tree, almost like a work of art painted on the gray backdrop of the winter sky. Beneath this tree, the flower vendor with her bunches of crisp white daisies will leave an indelible mark in your memory.

The chill feels like a breath sneaking through your thin coat, making your body shiver with every gust of wind. In these moments, you might pass by a noodle shop and the steam rising from the pot fills the air with the rich, savory aroma of simmering bones and the tantalizing fragrance of fried shallots and spring onions. It’s enough to make you crave a bowl and indulge in its warmth.

You might feel the winter wind tugging at your disheveled hair, making you wistful. The sharp chill at the beginning of winter makes you yearn for some comforting warmth, to find a familiar corner where you can listen to the sweet strains of “Longing for Winter”. A fragrant cup of lotus tea or a gleaming cup of coffee. A hasty handshake or a shy kiss – you can no longer remember the times when these fleeting moments wrapped you in a gentle embrace.

Hanoi in my memory is the unforgettable experience of youth. During free weekends, we would escape from home and stay at the dormitory, gathering to go out and explore the city. The thrill of sitting behind a friend’s bike or strolling through the streets, hearing the rush of the winter wind or the rustling leaves underfoot, would make us instinctively draw closer to the person beside us, seeking warmth. Suddenly, we’d catch a whiff of roasted corn with its sweet fragrance. The corn, sizzling in its charred leaves, releases a unique, sweet aroma that makes you want to sit down with your friend and savor the warm, soft kernels, until your cheeks turn pink, not sure if it’s from the shyness or the fire of the coals... or from the chilly winter breeze.

There were times when I wandered the streets alone, finding myself at a corner food stall, watching the vendor skillfully cut golden, crispy tofu and pile it on top of a plate of vermicelli, alongside a bowl of thick, flavorful dipping sauce. And on those cold winter mornings, there was something irresistibly charming about the street vendor selling sticky rice by the school gate. The aroma of fried shallots filled the air, as golden crispy onions crowned the sticky rice, rich in pork fat. Nearby, the snail soup vendor, with her pot of simmering broth, mixed the tartness of vinegar and the heat of chili, pulling me to stop, to enjoy, to feel the warmth and affection of it all.

Wrapping myself in a coat, stepping out into the street on a chilly morning or a late evening, the crisp air of winter guides me toward the familiar, comforting flavors of life.

Hanoi, in all its corners, always holds a unique scent, a flavor that is exclusively its own.

(Article published in ND newspaper)

Lê Huyền

On that day, I found myself deeply in love with a lonely star. I was entranced by its faint glow in the vast night sky, drawn to its warmth even though the temperature was below freezing.

I once wept for that star, so solitary and isolated, and I felt helpless because there was nothing I could do but stand here, millions of light-years away, watching, feeling, and grieving for it.

I still remember that night, when it was the only light shining brightly in the endless expanse.

The soft golden moon couldn’t provide warmth or shelter; it stood there, casting a lonely glow.

I knew that star would never feel cold, never know sadness, and never experience joy. For it, glowing was its sole purpose. It wanted to adorn the deep black velvet of the sky, to exist with meaning, rejecting the blinding glamour to quietly reside in the darkness.

Sometimes, clouds would obscure it, or violent winds would whip across its fragile light, reddening its eyes like strands of blood. But I knew it would always stand there, unwavering, not even for a second would it falter.

Yet on certain nights, I noticed its absence. A lump would form in my throat, as if it were too tired and had gone to sleep. Today, the storm had lashed at its delicate heart, mercilessly pounding, wishing it could tear the heart into pieces.

The harshness of nature always lurked close by. I wonder, has that star ever cried? If it had tears, it would surely shed them. If it still had a beating heart, it would surely weaken in sorrow.

But that star always said to use reason to navigate the world, for feelings were too fragile. No, if it continues like this, it will neither die from the storm nor live with such a desolate soul. Why should it be this way? For an ideal once so beautiful?

Because of loneliness, that star remains alone, not loving anyone, not allowing anyone into its heart.

It fears falling in love.

Love is a mysterious and unpredictable thing. Who can guarantee that they won’t hurt the one they love? Is there anyone who could stay forever with a star as desolate as this one? Probably not.

But love, when it’s endured through hardship, lasts. The true reward of this eternal elixir is the profound happiness it brings. The storms are just surface-level obstacles. If everyone is afraid, then who will I love? One must believe, believe that after every heartbreak, suffering isn’t the only thing that remains.

If you think positively, no harsh force can harm a heart.

Just love, as your heart desires.

Oh, beautiful star, would you like a sincere heart?

No one is born wanting to live forever in loneliness. But sometimes...

There are those, it seems, who are destined by fate to walk alongside loneliness. They may have many relationships, but the hurt they receive always outweighs the love they give. Because of this, whenever love is mentioned, they instinctively retreat in fear.

While most people's visions of happiness are alike, with images of intertwined hands, resting heads on shoulders, embraces, and kisses... for those who make loneliness their companion, happiness often appears alone, much like themselves.

For them, it might look like a clear morning, reading a book with their feet up, gently stroking a lazy cat by their side. Or like cold winter nights when they hold their own hand, rubbing it for warmth. Or those mundane days when they curl up, hugging their knees, crying silently.

They are pitiful in many ways, but they never try to appear as such!

Because those who have befriended loneliness for so long are some of the strongest individuals. They don’t doubt love, but neither do they fully trust it. The only thing they truly believe in is themselves. It's because they fear that their fragile hearts might stir too easily, so they avoid getting too close to others, always finding ways to protect their hearts in a safe space.

Once, I asked, “Has choosing loneliness for so long finally come to an end?”

My friend replied that she hadn’t chosen loneliness. No one is born to live forever with loneliness. Who doesn’t want a companion? Who doesn’t want to be loved, cared for, and protected by someone they love?

But the ones they loved didn’t choose them, so they returned to loneliness. The days of a lonely person are often simple and peaceful, sometimes to the point of sadness. Despite still being young, with a fresh, blooming youth and many pleasures of life ahead… they feel as though they've already reserved a seat on a solitary journey through life. And so, they continue walking, forgetting their sorrow and their grief.

Even so, the lonely person truly cherishes the rare moments of serendipity. If someone comes along, they invest all their sincerity in trust, in love, and in nurturing the relationship. If you love someone who has been lonely for a long time, love them more, listen more, and understand them more. Because they are the ones who truly deserve it!

Trinh Leng Keng

I was once lonely, but when I met you, the two of us, lonely souls, met and shared our loneliness, and gradually, that loneliness faded, to the point where I was happy just to have you – Loneliness.

Hi there, I'm so glad you’re reading these words because they’re meant for you, my love, Loneliness.

It’s wonderful that when I didn’t have a lover, when I couldn’t find the missing piece of my heart, you appeared. But who would have thought that I’d fall for you, so much so that I didn’t want to love anyone else, thinking it wasn’t time to date anyone but you.

You have something special, something charming that the guys around me don’t have. People fall for each other because they see something special in one another, and maybe that’s why I fell for you without you having to confess.

You’re also capable of doing many things that I could never do, like caring for someone 24/7 without expecting anything in return, quietly being there for them, and when they no longer need you, you silently step away. I wonder, how can you be so noble?

You are also incredibly handsome in a way that’s hard to describe, so stunning that no girl would ever reject you, sometimes even longing to see you even while being with someone they love.

With you, I can always be myself, keeping my habits that I never get tired of – eating endlessly, sleeping endlessly, even reading books in the bathroom, or singing silly songs while cooking… because you never criticize me, you just smile and watch. That’s enough for me to feel that being myself is truly wonderful.

Since I’ve known you, I’ve grown so much. I’ve learned to live independently, to stop relying on my family, to stop asking for things that aren’t right for me, and to stop feeling lonely when no one is by my side. Because you’re always there with me.

I love you for the simple things you’ve brought into my life. I love you for the times I stopped crying after falling down, picked myself up, and smiled. I love you for the strength I’ve developed since I’ve known you – getting used to Loneliness.

I was once lonely, but when I met you, the two of us, lonely souls, met and shared our loneliness, and gradually, that loneliness faded, to the point where I was happy just to have you – Loneliness.

People often tease you as “the wife of Mr. Loneliness,” but to me, you are the strongest man in the world, noble and thoughtful… And I will love you until someone comes along and loves me the way I love you.

To you, my dear Loneliness, whom I want to date for another three years – will you agree?

Collected

The wind howled across the field, making the grass stretch wider and farther. The withered grasses of late autumn, early winter swayed in the breeze, resembling the loneliness she felt right now – wavering and alone.

Last night, she had a long, endless dream, so sorrowful that it woke her with tears. She saw herself lost on a deserted island, surrounded by dry grass with no one around, only reeds and wind, just like the scene she was seeing now, except this time, she was in a car with her daughter. In the dream, she saw a little bird, as lonely as she was, fluttering frantically, weak in its fragile form, unlike the strong sea birds. It landed on a rock, silently watching her with curious, confused eyes. She realized it was a seagull, the same kind she had seen at Darling Harbour, a friendly, fearless bird. She reached out, and as soon as she did, it flew away. As the evening shadows grew, she felt a growing fear, a human fear of unfamiliar nature. She ran toward the beach and shouted:

- Is anyone there?

The sea echoed her cry back with a sound that only deepened her fear. She kept running along the sandy shore, the darkness consuming her, swallowing her into the cold emptiness of the deserted island.

A cold thought passed through her mind: She was alone, and perhaps would always be.

Collapsed on the vast stretch of sand, she fell asleep again. In the dream, the loneliness she unconsciously felt wrapped itself around her and squeezed tighter!

Startled awake, she found herself crying, her daughter still peacefully asleep beside her. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, feeling warmth, but knew that the loneliness of being apart from her child would always be the dream she had to face!

The car continued to drive, the same endless fields of grass from her dream stretching before her. She gently held her daughter's hand and felt a sense of comfort. The wind still blew, and the road ahead seemed even longer.

Nga Vu

Winter arrives with loneliness. How long have we been together, loneliness? We've been friends for so long now that I no longer feel sorrow or frustration.

The first chill of the season cuts through to the bone. People don’t recognize the coming of winter, it’s a season meant for curling up and retreating inward. It’s a cruel season that makes you feel isolated, the time when everyone wishes they could walk the streets hand in hand. The cold only becomes real when you see everyone bundled up in thick coats, their heads covered with colorful woolen hats, holding hands, walking together through the gray city streets.

Winter arrives with loneliness. How long have we been together, loneliness? We've been friends for so long now, and I no longer feel the annoyance or bitterness I once did when I saw couples walking by. I used to be childish, didn’t I? Now that I have you, I don’t need anyone else.

I used to dream of someone holding my hand while we wandered through the winding streets of the old town. We would stop at a street-side café for hot lemon juice, or sip on hot porridge. But now, with no one to hold my hand, I will warm my own hands, stuff them into my pockets, and stroll confidently like a lady through one street after another. Hanoi has corners that feel like a miniature Europe, and I’ll walk through them, taking pictures, just like a wandering tourist, don’t you think?

Loneliness, I used to fear it. I feared the pain of watching someone silently walk out of my life. No matter how strong or brave I was, tears still mixed with the cold winter rain. There were no shapes, no colors, just streaks of sadness, dark purple and suffocating. I didn’t blame anyone, didn’t complain, didn’t hold any grudges, but in my heart, I developed a vague fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of having to experience everything that was once shared, alone. But maybe everything just goes on. If we can get used to everything, then loneliness will become part of the routine too...

Without anyone, I can stay in bed all day, I have more time to learn how to cook a few dishes, brew tea, or make coffee...

Without anyone, I can wear as many layers as I want and ride my bike through the streets without worrying about the cold biting through my thick clothes. I don’t have to fear the absence of a familiar, comforting shoulder.

Without anyone, I’ll get on the bus and pick the last seat. I’ll enjoy the view through the fogged-up glass and let my thoughts wander. Maybe I’ll imagine a romantic bus ride love story.

Without anyone, I’ll still take care of myself, eat, sleep, and rest on time, meet friends every weekend, or plan a trip somewhere.

Without anyone, I still have my parents, my friends. I can still do many things by myself. I have memories to cherish.

It’s simple, but not everyone can do it. And not everyone can love you, loneliness! But someone who clings to the past and doesn’t allow themselves a chance to change won’t know how to love themselves anymore. People often refuse to let go of the past, feeling regretful and stubborn, trapped in pain. That’s when loneliness finds a reason to stay stuck in the heart. If you don’t remove it, if you don’t find a way to make yourself happy, how long will it take for loneliness to leave?

After everything I’ve been through, I still love freedom, I love solitude. I’ll walk with you until I find someone who truly loves me. Promise me you’ll give me the peaceful moments I need to retreat to whenever I feel weary and dizzy!

Loneliness, I’ve accidentally fallen for you.

KEM

July is almost over, my love! Who forgot their promises in the heat of the day by the riverbank? This morning, as I wandered through the online world, I came across a status that caught my eye: “July for me, for you, and for loneliness.” Are you happy over there? What is it about July that makes me feel so lost and restless? Some days, I feel like I’m walking through a crowded street, trying to find you, but you’re still just a fleeting breeze, leaving me searching through a sea of people.

My July is a mid-summer sky, full of emotions – a mix of longing and anger, hoping for peace, yet afraid of sadness. We lost each other in the promises we once made, like a kite whose string snapped and flew away, didn’t we? Who told you to steal my July? My July where I pretended to be calm, but you left behind a wreckage of memories. Now, I’m dizzy with the alcohol of your absence, recognizing that from here on, a “new life” begins. Yesterday, the bird in the cage chirped, “Guests, guests,” and the wind rustled through the dry leaves in the corner of the yard. I almost thought you were back. But it was just a false hope!

Does your July hold any trace of us, or is it just me alone, still unable to reach happiness?

July is almost over, and soon I’ll forget about you, right? Some days, time drags on so slowly, not enough to lull me into a deep sleep. I drift in and out of dreams, feeling you near, but never quite touching you. Sweet love that I can never speak aloud, and when I wake, I realize my eyelids are heavy with tears. July, I want to be close to you for a long time, to send you all my longing, hoping you’ll hold my hand and never let me walk alone in this strange world. July goes on, day after day, with messages from me that grow longer and longer, yet I still can’t press send. I hold onto my sorrow, endlessly circling your name. I fear the wind, the indifferent clouds, and even the rain that hasn’t yet soaked into the ground. I’m afraid that one day, we’ll look at each other and not recognize who we are anymore. I fear waiting for today, only to find it shattered into pieces.

I fear that you will quickly forget me.

July, I deceive myself. You’re just like the others, passing through my life. A guest who stopped by for a while, only to leave behind broken promises. It’s just me, foolishly waiting. In your July, the rain falls where you are, while the sun scorches me here. On some evenings, as work ends, I am overwhelmed by a sea of gray, because... I am far from you. July, I miss you, I miss those days when I was happy with you, so deeply it burns my soul. I even miss the tears, the ones that make me seem weak. But one day, peace will return, and so... where will you be? July is almost over, my love! Who forgot their promise on the riverbank on that scorching day?

Grass Reed

In moments when I sit alone, knees drawn up, staring out the window at the creeping vines, I wonder, “After being lonely for so long, do you still feel sad?”

In winter, the rain falls more, and the winds blow fiercely. I huddle in a corner, letting loneliness take root and grow, unwilling to let go.

On those late winter days, people are busy with love, with longing, with seeking the pieces of their hearts. Meanwhile, I am numb to love, caught up in my search for peace and lost in the sadness of winter’s melancholy.

These nights, I can’t sleep before midnight. The more I close my eyes, the more sorrow creeps in, as if it’s waiting to return. They say this is the most sensitive time, where emotions can shatter and loneliness surrounds with no escape. Some things no longer hurt as much, and love feels empty, yet still, it lingers in my thoughts. That’s when I feel helpless against my loneliness, but I don’t need anyone to be here with me.

There are times when I walk through a cold winter afternoon, looking up at the sky, dark and heavy with clouds, and the sadness pierces deep, wishing for just a sliver of sunlight to part the clouds over the quiet street below. Then, I catch myself noticing how cold my hands have become, shivering, and I quickly clasp them together, rubbing them like a child craving comfort.

In those moments when I console myself, I realize that a heart can’t always be strong on its own. Sometimes, it craves the warmth of another person, even if they are a stranger. A heart always has reasons it can’t explain, and that’s how it is.

People tell me stories of winter, of fingers intertwined, of love wandering and finding its way to a happy ending, of hearts brimming with longing. But somehow, I still don’t feel a desire for those things. Maybe I’m occupied with something else, something I keep close, a weapon just for me, holding it tight through the quiet sadness of winter. It’s me, holding onto loneliness and letting it soothe me into peace.

Wandering around familiar cafés, I always choose a quiet corner, one no one else seems to want. Across from me is just an empty space, one no one has yet filled. I suddenly feel small, lost, like a droplet of coffee poised to fall to the bottom of the cup, unable to hold on to anything and stay.

Winter feels strange, unsettling. People walk hand in hand down the street, a young man wrapping a scarf around the neck of his girl, and I see happiness and peace in her eyes. It’s such a simple love, but not everyone gets to have it. In that moment, I realize I haven’t felt the cold or the sadness for a long time because those feelings have become habits, deep-rooted and hard to shake off. But it’s also in those moments that I realize that the happiness of others sometimes makes another heart feel even lonelier.

There are times when I sit alone, knees drawn up, staring out the window at the creeping vines, and I wonder, “After all this time, do you still feel lonely?”

Truthfully, no one wants to be alone for a long stretch of life. It’s just that I’ve been caught up in something for so long that I can’t let go. Loneliness is like that too. I’ve been so busy thinking about it that I haven’t had time to think about love for anyone else.

Maybe it’s because I’m waiting for someone to pull me out of loneliness, so I can focus on better, brighter things.

As the late winter days continue, the rain doesn’t stop, and the wind still blows hard, wetting someone’s shoulders… alone!

Green Morning

Get out and mingle with the crowd instead of hiding away at home. Learn to share, don’t carry all the happiness, sorrow, sadness, and pain on your own. Stop shouting, “I’m lonely!”

People say that if you talk about loneliness too much, it will become a disease. If you compromise with your emotions for too long, they will be worn down. If we keep assuming we’re lonely, we will be lonely.

The younger you are, the easier it is to feel lonely.

All it takes is a few setbacks, a few failed attempts that lead to dead ends, and a world that knocks you down. That’s when you start to feel hopeless and want to give up.

In truth, we young people are prone to loneliness because we feel helpless. We get discouraged, we despair, we’re afraid of life, afraid of failure, afraid of getting hurt.

Those who feel lonely are always restless in the face of every challenge. They’ll shrink away from the possibility of pain, they won’t dare to move forward, they won’t know how to open their hearts wide enough to fully experience the joys of youth.

Eventually, we all grow up, and we all experience the loneliness of being on our own. When you take your first step into life, promising yourself you’ll walk it alone. When the people around you go their separate ways. When frustration and resentment toward the world build up from injustice, from being hurt, from holding onto wounds, and from not knowing how to face them.

We’re afraid to step into unfamiliar places, to go where there are too many people. We fear the rush and urgency that might make our youth slip away too quickly. We call for sadness to come fast, and we hold onto it for as long as we can.

We hold onto our own little secrets and prefer to live in memories. We ignore the present, run from the future, afraid to give our hearts to anyone, afraid to share our feelings with others, just like a patient afraid to talk about their condition with a doctor.

Let’s pull the youth out of loneliness.

Let’s speak of the present instead of being lost in the current of the past. Get out and mingle with the crowd instead of staying home all the time. Learn to share, don’t bear the weight of all the joys and sorrows, the happiness and pain on your own. Stop shouting, “I’m lonely!”

Loneliness easily drags people into its endless current. When someone is uncertain and skeptical about the world, they will be swept away.

At that point, loneliness will be like a boat, drifting aimlessly.

Youth wasted on things like this…

CADE