Accidental Ambivalence

Loneliness. Solitude.

Recently, and through a rather strange series of events, Project reentered my life. That, and all of the stuff that goes with it, is another post in itself, and I've not quite sorted out the way I feel about all of it. It's for another day.

Since we hadn't spoken in over four years, we had a bit of catching up to do. Given our quasi-romantic history, the subject of relationships came up, and my lack of relationships seemed to surprise him. When I explained that I had accepted and was embracing a solitary life as the way that I'm meant to live, he seemed almost upset. Since, like so many other people, he's apparently been in a serious, committed relationship (mind-bending as that is), his reaction didn't surprise me. In our society it seems unthinkable that someone would choose and actually enjoy being alone and not having a "significant other." He asked me if I didn't think that choosing that sort of life would be lonely.

I've always been a little judgmental of people who seem unable to spend any time alone, particularly those girls when I was in college who would complain about how they wanted someone to share their bed because they wanted company. While I realize that people enjoy companionship, I can't understand how someone can't entertain herself and learn to enjoy solitude. I don't understand people who are bored when they're alone, who seek the company of another simply because they can't enjoy the company they provide for themselves. I know those people exist, and if that's how you want to live I'm not going to judge, but I don't get it.

No, I'm not lonely. No one steals the covers or crowds my space in bed, there isn't anyone expecting me to make polite conversation before coffee, no one to compromise with when choosing what to watch on television, no one expecting me to make dinner or complaining about what I choose. When I choose to spend my whole day at home - which is more days than not - I get to spend time sans-makeup, something I couldn't do if there was a man in my house (my pride wouldn't allow it). There isn't anyone talking when I'm engrossed in a book, no one judging when I get sappy movies from Netflix or choose to spend my weekend in a Gossip Girl marathon, and food I put in the fridge never disappears.

I'm the opposite of lonely; I revel in my solitude. When I do want company I know where to find it. And sure, I have moments when it would be nice to have someone around, but those moments of want rarely come from inside myself. I watch a silly romantic comedy and catch myself wanting someone to look at me like that, to kiss me like that. Then I remember that romantic comedies omit the hard parts of sharing yourself with someone. I crawl in bed and catch a bit of a chill and think of how nice it would be to have someone to snuggle up against. Then I remember that I've never been able to sleep peacefully with another person in bed with me. I pour my first cup of coffee and think how nice it would be if someone else made it just the way I like it before I woke up.

Then I remember that the coffee pot has a timer.

Labels: boys, personal growth

posted by nicalyse @ 6:00 AM