exploring solitude

When I went to see the band play, there was only me. I travelled there in solitude, my ears plugged up by my own music, the bus bright and garish. I arrived to a series of familiar faces (the ghost from long ago was among them) but I settled into a spot toward the front of the stage so that I could enjoy the music without being distracted by anyone else. I casually sipped my beer and wondered if it would be odd if I put my earphones back in when, not five minutes of my being alone, a guy came over and clinked beer cans with me.

We had a great time, another interesting thing to note, that I could have a great time with a stranger and never know his name. We danced, we sang along to the lyrics, we pummeled the arms of those hipsters around us who purported to be too cool to dance by standing steady and nodding their heads to the drum beat. We sweated, we laughed, we twirled and when the band was done, he left and I stayed behind to get another beer. I had no buoy waiting for me other than the bar and a can of beer, and I comfortably headed there with no qualms; no worries of what I might look like alone.

And as I look back at the stretch of days and months of my single-dom, I realize that I've become comfortable with myself. I no longer need a life raft, an oasis, a set of ears and eyes to meet, a pair of hands to hold, which I have always desperately clung to, which is probably why I held on to him so long. I drowned and now I am free to swim alone.

It was the same at the party this weekend, where I knew I might not know anyone, seeing the singer last week, meeting a friend of a friend. Before, I might have not done these things out of deference to my own insecurities, the fear that I would have no one to talk to, the worry that I might look out of place. The last two weeks I did them all without any security blankets, no one at my side, and no concerns. I suppose it is the living alone that has helped this develop. Also, the getting older. The being comfortable with myself. The knowing who I am.

Interestingly enough, the universe has conspired to deliver me roommates, a home more suitable to me and the challenge of finding new ways to enjoy my solitude. I suspect this will be a good move for me in many ways, but it will also be wonderful to have a new pair of people to spend a moment or two with in passing.