Lonely Boy

“Lonely Boy” was a popular song by singer Andrew Gold. It was released as a single in early 1977, just after I turned 11 years old.

At that time, music was my life. If I wasn’t at school or spending time with my family, I was almost always alone in my bedroom listening to my favorite radio stations or to my ever-growing collection of records. The musicians that I listened to were becoming the people that I was spending the majority of my time with. They were becoming my friends.

Friendships weren’t as easy in the real world. I had one or two good friends, but even with them, I often felt like something was missing. It was the same when I was with my family. I could be in a room filled with friends and family members, but I somehow always felt alone.

It wasn’t because of anything any of them said or did, though. They gave me their friendship. They gave me their love. They were fine. It wasn’t them. It was me.

It was always me. I was the one that felt different from the rest of them. Why did they waste their time showing me that they cared about me? Why did they even bother? Didn’t they see what I saw?

I was some sort of oddball. Some sort of freak and “weirdo.” Some lonely, strange kid that was scared of everything and everyone.

When I discovered the song “Lonely Boy,” I instantly felt like the song was about me. Well, not all of it, of course. Most of the lyrics were about a boy who felt neglected by his parents after his younger sister was born. Those parts weren’t about me at all.

But when Andrew Gold sang the chorus of “Lonely Boy,” that part most definitely was me.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…”

Gold sang the lyrics very passionately and there were hints of sadness in his voice when he sang that chorus. I’d often sit on my bed listening to the song and singing along to it. Sometimes I’d be hunched over and rocking back and forth, with tears in my eyes as I sang those lines over and over again.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…”

Sometimes it got bad. Sometimes I’d be crying so hard that I’d start sobbing, almost uncontrollably. The lyrics would barely make their way out of my mouth. I’d be whispering them, so no one else could hear how pathetic I knew I probably sounded.

“Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…”

Sometimes it was too much. I’d tell myself that I hated the song. But then I’d quickly change my mind. How could I hate it? It was my song. I was the Lonely Boy.

It would be many, many years before I truly faced and dealt with many of the things I struggled with back in my childhood and throughout much of my life. That lonely boy (and later lonely man) was not an oddball or a weirdo. He was depressed. He was anxious. He had something called ADHD, which would remain undiagnosed for several decades.

These are things I’m fully aware of now and I luckily have many tools that help me deal with them. I have friends and a wonderful, supportive, and loving wife. I am a truly happy person and I feel blessed to be living this life I have.

This morning I went for a run in one of my local parks. I had music playing as I ran. “Lonely Boy” came on. I was excited to run to it because it’s a great pop song with a fantastic beat. I was feeling good.

Then came that chorus.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…Oh, what a lonely boy…”

I suddenly had tears flowing down my cheeks as I ran.

I cried sad tears for that lonely boy I used to be.

And I also cried happy tears because that boy no longer feels lonely.