I’m learning to make peace with loneliness.
It has never been a friend of mine. I love its sibling, space. There is a very thin line between getting your own space and being lonely. I need time for myself, completely alone, every day, to be a sane person when in company.
But the trouble is, you can’t tell the difference.
Looking at someone from afar, you can never tell which one they are in. If you were to see me now, sitting atop the water-tank with the stars on top of my head and the city laid out before me, you would not know if I was taking out my own time from the world or feeling lonely and lost. I’m learning to live with this feeling of scrolling through the contact list, deciding who to call instead of having a go-to person. I’m learning to understand that I’m no one’s top priority and that if there is someone in the world for me, it is me.
I’m learning to enjoy long walks by myself without the aid of music or conversation on the phone. I avoid thinking by observing the people around me and weaving stories about their lives. I chat with the cigarette seller as I puff away and ask him about his father’s health. I race from one diversion to another, not letting myself dwell or think, at all.
I’m still not brave enough for music, or for smoking all alone. The music is too painful and the smoking too lonely.
Title: Julian Kruse. Breathe.