You anticipate that my inclination towards solitude and an honest appreciation for it over a desire for constant companionship shall wane, don’t you? You even sound sure, I see that smirk on your face and your defense you keep ready just in case.
Unsurprisingly you sound quite like this man I once spent a couple of hours with. It was a date unfolding like any other, predictable as most of my encounters with men at the time. In my consolation, the place we met was of my choice, not far from where I lived. And I had by now found a way to charmingly ask for the bartender’s choice of beverage but without alcohol. Free-spirited, it says on the menus. My rejection of alcohol always surprises people, they even take it personally. As if drinking on a date and not drinking on a date, both led to two separate events. I am consistent in my resolve with either choice. If I ask why they care, I’d kill the vibe. I have worked on my sense of humor, as a way to tell the truth with a hint of self-efficacy. It's a little price I have to pay to set my boundaries firmly at times. I will likely never understand people’s need to convince me that intoxicating myself was a way to let go. I quite like letting go by myself. In a real sense, that’s when I do let go, alone, expanding my presence into what is.
This bar where spirits flowed freely, and people dressed more formally than the usual crowds of my city, I had first visited with my boyfriend many years ago. We did the usual bar-hopping without ever realizing that it was the last time we would ever have a drink together. The pandemic shutdown followed by our inevitable falling apart didn’t leave much room for imagining what life would be like if or when the world will be open again. All we knew was that we wouldn’t be together to find out.
Humanity is resilient and I was glad to be back. As I waited for my, not too sweet, nonalcoholic drink for the night, I thought of the days when I loved a Manhattan, for the bourbon-soaked cherries would delight me each time. In the second round, I’d ask for two cherries. The man was just as curious as others with whom I had planned encounters to explore a romantic potential. The mundane familiarity and the consistency with the emotion of surprise, that's modern dating for you.
He was taken aback by how I don’t usually get bored. I also had never thought of that before so intently. Not an observation I ever made, for it wasn’t unusual to me. He noticed my casual ways with the bar staff, joking with them as if I knew them, and I acknowledged my yearning for a small town where everyone knew everyone. From the coffee shop owner to the grocery workers, from the bar to the library. All the key places of a town you could cover on your feet, what a delightful place that would be.
Yes, exactly, he also said the same thing, that the charm would wear off in about two years. And I couldn't help but laugh at his need for sustained novelty, of wanting anything to last forever. As I do, likely once a week, I quoted Oscar Wilde, yet again, revealing to this person how we all spoil romance by trying to make it last forever.
He had never thought of it that way. And I had never thought any differently. My true self has always been aware of the truth of impermanence. I have mentioned it before, this year was the year of not trying, and I stand my ground that I seek nothing out of my solitude. But it seeks a lot of me. If not now when. I feel up to the task of not doing much in life and staring at the sky on nights like these when I yet again spot the same few constellations, that I have all my life. The joy remains constant.
If you looked hard enough into a blank space in the sky, you could still find stars, where there weren’t any a few seconds ago. And if you kept staring you could even see them move. I am kidding, those are satellites. Ah! Don’t be disappointed, I am not! Sometimes I see stars, sometimes I see satellites. There’s no meaning in this or a life lesson. If I had company now they would poke me for it, for every action must have a bigger purpose. Simplicity is lost to those around me. Even when I have no company I find myself having to justify my pleasures, to the voices in my head. And when that happens, I get a bit tense. Losing my mind over someone who isn’t even here, and that’s how I know I need more time alone.
So the real question is not what will I do when this delightful solitude ceases to fulfill me. The real question is why do you care so much? What makes you want to make me doubt the cultivated joy of my life? You have no answer, right? I will tell you, it’s your own fear. I am not asking you to be like me. In fact, I always say, don’t live like me, have mercy on yourself. I live dangerously for the world we are in. With no plans, goals, ambitions, growth mindsets, and high-return stocks, I am a certified outlier who still manages to get by. And it’s even more dangerous that I go with the flow. Passivity is what I reek of.
But they’d leave me alone if I really were some loser in their eyes. They don’t. They come around, poke at me all the time, and wait for my reaction. I am not as reactive anymore. My need to react was nothing more than wanting to defend my space yet at the same time guiding them with a light. They were quick to link my need for solitude to esteem. I’d say, believe whatever you want. I’d rather you think of me as a nobody, than someone you need something from. My solitude thrives when no one needs anything from me. I know this much is true, I have never felt wanted in life. I have wanted to feel desired, it’s only human of me. I don’t correct that need ever. Let it live its life. But for those who were taking up space, I realize now that they needed something from me, which they can find anywhere else too. I am not complaining though, for I am discovering myself in this silence now. And I really desire myself.
One would call me extreme but it becomes a necessity, at least once in life to fully experience what being absolutely alone feels, relying on no one but yourself and making choices with an awareness that whatever is left when I have insulated my walls, could also be gone one day.
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