Loneliness and solitude are two separate states of being, as I once discovered. I’m not sure if I was lonely back then, certainly not by my current classification of it; but solitude was something I understood quite well. My solitude was at the desk in my bedroom of my parents’ house. I was a night-owl, staying up long after they had gone to bed. Hunched over my computer with my headphones on, drifting off into another world. Those first few hours into the next morning were perfect in that there were no peripheral noises. There were no busses groaning past, no trains rattling by, no nagging parents, nothing. The night was unspoiled.
The closer I came to entering my twenties, the more I longed for the privilege of living in my own house, alone. My very own fortress of solitude. A place where I could get a little closer to that familiar seclusion I had late into the night.
My first year alone went by quickly. Now, in my second year, I feel that time is beginning to slow as I begin to realise just how empty my home really is. It’s too much for one person, my unit. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and I only use one of each. The others remain untouched.
A while ago I turned down an offer to move-in with a friend. It would have been mutually beneficial, but I was too proud of my own space. A space which I only ever half-used, and now wish to share.
It’s difficult to find comfort from my own solitude. Only now have I come to realise that an excess of solitude is loneliness. Perhaps it’s this very thought that scares me, and why it’s been on my mind lately.
It’s strange that the very thing I once thought would free me, has now become a sort of prison. I guess people need people after all.
I guess I’m just a bit lonely, really. A loner that won’t muster the courage to go meet new people.
I burnt my first bridge recently, you see; one of my best friends since 5th grade. Sometimes people drift apart until there’s no real connection left between them; but sometimes the way they just fade away shits you off to no end.
It kept me up at night. So I thought, fuck it, and deleted him from my socials. It’s not like he knew, or probably even cared what was going on with me anyway. That’s what I’m telling myself at least. I think it’s pretty accurate, considering the zero fucks he gave about making any sort of effort.
In the grand scheme of things, I’ve probably only made it weird with our friends though. I hear he’s hesitant to attend any event I may be at. He was rarely ever there anyway, so fuck him. I’d be polite and respectful though, if he were to show. Maybe we could clear the air.
I’m not sure I could speak like this to his face though. Perhaps I’d get the point across, but I doubt I’d be as passionate. No, instead I take it all out here, somewhat anonymously to you strangers who’ve stumbled across this angsty rant of some failed bromance. Well thanks for reading, I guess. It’s comforting to know someone will know how I’m doing, even if you’re not here with me.
I’ve been here before, I know what to expect. The isolation. The loneliness. It’s nothing new, but that doesn’t make it any easier. They don’t know how it affects me, yet I resent them all the same. It’s not their fault, I can’t blame them for my choices no matter how much I want to, because in the end that’s exactly why I’m in this situation in the first place. My choices.
There’s a person that I confide in. I’ve spilled my darkest self out in front him and he doesn’t treat me any differently. I wonder if my other friends would be as kind and forgiving. No matter how many friends or followers I have there’s no escaping it. It’s been said you can be lonely in a room full of people, but what if there’s no room full of people? What if it’s just you, alone with your thoughts? That’s when it’s most dangerous. When there’s no-one to hear you out and your thoughts turn darker with each passing minute. You begin to question even your strongest bonds and you can’t help but ask, “why?”. Why me? What makes me so different from everyone else? Why doesn’t anyone else hurt like I do? Maybe the do hurt. Maybe they hide it just as you do, behind false smiles and a facade of contentedness.
I turn to looking at my past, searching for a reason to why this is happening. Why I have this constricting feeling of loneliness. There’s only one answer, my choices. I burn bridges before they’re even constructed and it leaves me empty. Hollow. There’s a standard which I’ve grown accustomed to. A standard that prevents people from getting close to me. I lock them out before they even get a chance to prove themselves otherwise.
So quick I am to judge others and this is what I get for doing so. I’m happy with my relationships at the moment and I’m grateful for having experienced the overwhelming sense of loneliness. I believe it enhances the mind, opens it to reality and puts things into perspective. It’s a terrible thing, but it has deepened my understanding of life and boosted my emotional intelligence. So here’s to loneliness, the isolation and the emptiness it provides.
Inspired by The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cut Off.”
It’s been quite a while since I last blogged, which is both good and bad. On the positive side of things, a lot has happened in the past few months, providing me with some possible future blog posts. However, in my time away some of my followers have left me and I’m somewhat stale when it comes to writing, which is understandable considering how infrequent and unreliable I’ve become with my posting.
Meeting someone for the first time can be a daunting experience. Every first conversation takes the same route. What are you studying? Where do you work? Whereabouts are you from? It’s all essential information in getting to know someone, but is all the chit-chat really necessary?
You wouldn’t be friends with someone you knew nothing about, would you? Small talk can provide some basic information on the other person with which you can relate to. You can find common interests or beliefs that can allow you to expand your knowledge of the other person. Over time, trust and understanding is built and you both feel safer talking about deeper topics, if you choose to.
Reflecting on current friends, I think back to when we first met and the conversations we had then. All the basic getting-to-know-you chit-chat, eventually leading to a hobby, opinion, some common interest that strengthens our bond and solidifies our friendship that bit more. To neither ask nor answer basic, somewhat boring questions to others presents little to no chance that your relationship with them will progress beyond anything but an acquaintance. But making the effort to ask and answer those questions can be incredibly rewarding. All it takes it time.
I was recently invited to one of my closest friend’s 20th birthday party. It wasn’t so much of a party as it was heading out to the nightclub he promotes to hang out for the night. I wasn’t overly excited at the idea of spending the best of part of my night and early morning in some loud, smelly nightclub that sold overpriced drinks and was jam-packed full of ‘brusses’ and stuck-up ‘princesses’. It was my mate’s birthday celebration though, so I obliged.