When man was out in the expat ends, loneliness was calm, innit. Man had time. Hobbies. Ciggies on deck, gin anytime, vibes steady. That sorta isolation felt earned… peaceful, even.

But the loneliness that comes with being a parent? Nah fam, that one hits different. Proper rattles the bones. And single parent loneliness? Bruv, that’s straight-up obscene.

It’s the kinda solitude that creeps in ‘cause you’re never available when the mandem are.

The loneliness of not having other single-parent bredrins to vent with.

The loneliness of ducking invites from people with no kids or no stress — ‘cause you can’t match their energy, innit.

The loneliness of watching every penny like it’s the last rizla in the pack.

But the worst one… the one that really cuts, is when my daughter’s vexed at me. That all-the-time anger? It drains the life outta man. Therapy’s crawling, and her mum’s not exactly making the road smoother.

Still, I know man’s not alone in this. If you’re reading this, fam, just know you’re not either. Everyone’s carrying something, trust. But in this “connected” world, reaching out still feels like tryna shout across the Gardiner in rush hour, bare noise, no one hearing a word.