seclusion

‘As the sun set, [Lillian] realised she’d spent the entire day by herself and maybe she should feel lonely but she never did. Alone, sure - but not lonely.’

I’ve been spending a lot of time alone recently. I’ve moved home from university, my life no longer overcrowded with assignments and stress; I’ve left the city behind and returned to the countryside. My friends live miles away now; the never ending sleepover of living together has indeed ended. Gone are the days of movie marathons, getting ready for a night out or eating dinner together in our cramped, overpriced flat. Now it’s just me, living in quiet solitude with nothing but the rolling hills for company. 

Maybe I should feel lonely but strangely, I never do. I still see my friends on occasion, I trek back to the city and back into their arms, and for a brief moment it is as though nothing has changed. Of course, everything has changed. Everyone I know is starting their big jobs, making their way up various corporate ladders, while I sit at home doing anything but work. This period of isolation has allowed me to reignite the hobbies I abandoned during my studies. I’ve started painting, even though I’m an awful artist, my sudoku obsession is back in full force and I’m learning how to make lace. I can finally read solely for pleasure, and not for academic purposes, losing myself in worlds far livelier than my own. I find myself appreciating the little things.

My seclusion has granted me a new kind of peace. It has removed all romantic interests from my life, freeing me from my own self-imposed notions of sexual frivolity. The countryside may be beautiful but it does not host many age appropriate dating candidates and for once - I’m glad. Since being in my first ever relationship, which has now thankfully ended, I no longer feel the need to convince myself and others that I am loveable. My active search for ‘the one’ has ceased, removing the need to go on fruitless blind dates in hopes of finding a partner. Prior to my relationship, I thought there was something innately wrong with me, as while I had romantic partners or flings - no one ever wanted me to be their girlfriend. I was good for other things but was never seen as relationship material. I was never quite good enough. I have now proved to myself that I am both capable and worthy of being a girlfriend; therefore, my quest for love - or rather the world seeing me in love - has been suspended.

I will rejoin society someday. I hope that when I do, I will take these lessons of loneliness with me. I want to remember the peace of solitude, to make time for my hobbies - not letting them become overshadowed by responsibilities. I want to remember this loneliness; to always remind myself that I am good on my own and that I don’t need someone else to substantiate my existence. 

I am completely alone and I love it.