What Does It Mean To Be Alone?

 

I live in a city with 8.5 million people.

That’s 8.5 million faces, 8.5 million smiles, and 8.5 million hearts. Yet, I still ask myself why I feel like I’m invisible. I don’t mean invisible in that emo high school way, more like I’m a red herring. I’m going the wrong way, swimming in the wrong direction; why should I care if they notice or not? At least I’m fucking swimming.

I’m only 18, but I’ve come to recognize that one of the hardest adulthood battles is that against solitude. Of course, I have my family and friends who I couldn’t live without, but this battle regards romantic love; it’s against being alone. I’ve come to realize that our lives, more are less, are defined by the periods we spend in and out of love. Yes, life is much more than those two simple periods, but in a way, isn’t our humanity defined by the people we choose to be around and even more so by the people we choose to love?

I’ve recently entered my first out of love period. I graduated high school, moved across the country from the palm trees of South Florida to the high rises of New York. I start college in the fall, and I can count the amount of people I know here on one hand. As much as life’s new developments fascinate and scare me, I can’t help but think about how I just broke up with my first boyfriend.

As I work my way through the anxiety of a new home, new friends, and a new life — I realize I’m doing it all on my own. There are no kisses to make things better, no hand to hold, no sex. I’ve lost the individual who was the very first person that represented love to me. And I can’t even say that I lost him, because I chose to be alone. I could feel something ethereal telling me the relationship was over — and as it turns out, it was. 

I’ve been in my first out of love moment for over a month now. I’ve started writing again, which is something I’m genuinely proud of. I’m getting a tattoo, something I’m slightly terrified of. More importantly, I’m getting genuinely appreciative of being alone again. I grew up ferociously independent, so when I found my first love it felt nice having someone else to tell me things were going to be okay. I got used to that, as anybody would, and I was afraid to let that feeling go. As scared as I was after we broke up, I was ready. I was ready to get back to being who I was when I was alone: a little too loud, boy crazy, and fucking alive.

Now that I’m single it feels like I’ve made some grand return. I was off vacationing for a while, gone from my own skin and body, but now I’m back to being a little too loud, boy crazy, and fucking alive. Not to say I wasn’t those things while I was in love, but I have to admit they feel a little more true now. I don’t have to share any part of myself with someone else. I get to hold onto all of me. Maybe that’s a little selfish… but I damn well deserve it.

As I wade through my time alone I find myself thinking about the need humans feel for connection. Maybe the problem is that we’re terrified of being alone. To some extent, I get it. There’s comfort in knowing you have someone to sleep with every night, but there’s also comfort in knowing who you are when you close your eyes. We should be taught that it doesn’t matter who you attract, who wants to fuck you, or even who loves you if you aren’t able to understand and love yourself. Being alone gives you that opportunity to genuinely appreciate what makes you who you are. Having moments where you become the main reason you wake up each morning is truly precious.

By accepting periods your of aloneness, you don’t run the risk of giving yourself up to find a person to spend the rest of your life with. When you find them, you’ll already know who you are. You’ll be able to cherish those moments you had to yourself, because being in love with yourself is crucial to loving another.

We can either accept or reject the periods of our lives where we don’t have someone to be in love with. Whatever your choice, try harder to relish your being alone sometimes. As much as I love love — the time I spend out of it is the time I can truly focus on being and becoming me. There’s no distractions, no fights, no sacrifice. When we’re alone, we get to do whatever the fuck we want. 

I hope you accept your time, cultivate the love you have for yourself, and make that the best love story there ever was.