solitude and its tug of war
a day in the life
On Friday, October 11th, I spent most of my day alone. [ 12:45pm ] The thought of attempting to spend another afternoon "comfortably" by myself felt daunting, but it forced me to contemplate the whole "am I lonely or am I free" debate. So I did just that. I sat in the sun, soaking up warm rays outside of a coffee shop that I had never been to before.
[ 3:16pm ] At a little green table, small enough to be considered a bedside nightstand, with a singular open chair that was angled, arbitrarily, in the brightest corner of the patio— I watched the world go by: People with dogs. People with laptops. People with other people. Nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing particularly interesting enough to write home about (but apparently intriguingly introspective enough for me to consider writing about on my Substack for strangers — you're welcome?). Laid out in front of me were the only things on my person: A cup of my new go-to beverage (an iced vanilla matcha with oat milk), my favorite shoulder bag (thrifted, and likely crafted from someone much more skilled than me), and a brand new copy of Emma by Jane Austen. All of this joy, and no one to split a croissant with. Loneliness: 1 Freedom: 0
[ 2:22pm ] — my friend Athena will get a kick out of this timestamp, as did I I had decided earlier that afternoon, while strolling through a local bookshop up the street, that it was about time I picked up something on my TBR list (and for $7 how could I say no?). It was a tougher decision than I had anticipated, though. Seeing as the bookstore could be comparable in size to a shoebox, I thought I would pass in and out of there, like a slight breeze from the opening and closing of a door. Yet, I spent nearly 30 minutes grazing the shelves. (It's hard to make that sound like a "long time" spent looking at books, but if you saw the proportions of the little shop in person, you'd understand what I mean.) Anyway, I took my time. With my phone on Do Not Disturb, an afternoon open with no agenda to fill, and a checklist of chores sitting patiently on a table back home— it was simply me, myself, and whatever unserious itinerary I wanted to craft that day. So I kept perusing. "If I wasn't alone", I thought, "would I have been pulled to leave here already?" I picked up a few bookmarks to gift to friends. "If I was in the company of someone else, would I have opted out of fully digesting the summaries on the backs of these books (just to make sure that I wasn't holding someone up)?" I picked up two books. "If I was here with someone else, someone who knew how embarrassingly unemployed I was, would I even consider buying a book in front of them?" (I'm broke and everyone knows it.) I put one book back. I forced myself to stop shaming myself for taking too long (in, both, the book store and the job hunt) and decided that I was having fun. Before I solidified which world I was going to voluntarily dive into next, I took a deep breath to appreciate my own. Loneliness: 1 Freedom: 1
[ 3:57pm ] With a book bought and a drink devoured, I opted for a stroll through the nearby park. I watched a couple struggle to balance the ice cream cups in their hands and the phones they were attempting to take a selfie with. In between exchanged glances and giggles, the blonde woman nearly dropped her mini plastic spoon. As we crossed paths, I offered to snap a photo of them. Before I even had the chance to raise their camera to eye-level, they were all smiles. Laughing like children as they stuck a pose. I took note of the fact that when I asked if the photos were "up to their standards", the man resisted the urge to check what the photos looked like and smiled at me— "She looks good, that's all that matters". The woman blushed, I assumed knowing fair well that he never even looked at the phone screen. To her, that was the ultimate gesture of love. It was the equivalent of her partner screaming "she always looks perfect to me" to a complete stranger (me) in the middle of the street. Being in their presence, even just for that "snapshot" of time, felt intoxicating. What a privilege to be doused in such a contagious aura of joy, to slip into their timeline for the length of a shutter-speed's click. I couldn’t tell if this was their first date or their 15th wedding anniversary, and I haven't stopped thinking about that since. Loneliness: 2 Freedom: 1
[4:20pm] I had been too distracted by the books and the sun and the strangers to realize how much time had passed. Now, I was starving. Conveniently enough, one of my favorite food spots in the area was a quick 10 minute walk from the park. So, hungry and directionless, I made my way to Vessel Kitchen. I day dreamed of their mac and cheese while crossing the street and reminisced on nights at my old college dorm where my old roommate Bella and I would Doordash their plates. It soothed our souls when we had a particularly bad day (or particularly empty mini fridges) and was used as a meal of celebration. The most notable order being the evening I had submitted my last undergraduate final exam. (A delicious way to mark the end of an era I would say). Bella- if you're reading this, I miss you and you were with me at my booth in spirit <3 When my food arrived, I was ecstatic. The most mouth-watering chicken breast, cooked to perfection (flavorful, and a bit crispy on the edges but beautifully juicy on the inside), paired with the dream-worthy macaroni and a side of freshly marinated cauliflower. 10/10 I thought about how grateful I was to have fresh food, to have funds to pay for a meal even with no job (thank you past me for hoarding some savings). What a luxury it was to have decided on a restaurant soley based off of my food preferences in the moment, and with no timeline in eating— the ability to eat as fast or as slow as I'd like without monitoring someone else's plate to see if I was chowing too quickly or feeling as though I was rushing a slow eater to match my pace. Loneliness: 2 Freedom: 2 The iced tea in my water cup, a minute act of rebellion, was a great idea until I had to pee. I was forced to leave my food unattended to run to the restroom and, begrudgingly, asked a table of two if they could watch my stuff (food, wallet, copy of Emma…) while I slipped away. Probably a year or two older than me, the couple smiled and nodded, "Of course!" I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something sort of humiliating about the interaction. That's a common feeling, I've found, when you're prone to judging yourself through other people. They probably hadn't thought anything of my sitting alone. Just as the mother and daughter duo sitting diagonal from me, or the restaurant worker on her dinner break, or the woman who smiled at me while taking out the trash. I said my "thank you's" as I passed their table on the way back to my things. They nodded and continued their conversation. I watched them for a moment, the pair practically kicking their feet and twirling their hair while I shifted my gaze back at my plate. I looked at my mac and cheese the way they looked into each others eyes (with the utmost love and affection), until I realized that I left my plate sitting directly under an air vent, and the rest of my food was cold. Loneliness: 3 Freedom: 2
[ 5:54pm ] Because, apparently, Vessel Kitchen wasn't nostalgic enough, I chose to use the rest of my free time to make my way to my old college campus. To be clear, it wasn't in a sad way. Or a "I peaked in college, bring me back" way, but in a "killing time before I meet my friend here, what a cute thing to revisit on this sunny day" kind of way. Until, ultimately, of course, it turned into a sad/nostalgic way... (thought daughter activities as they say?) I sat in the same patch of grass on the University lawn that I had sat in as a sophomore. Except that version of me was a bit more naïve than the one I sat with "now". I doodled in my journal, got pen on my chin, and laid in the grass. I would be lying if I said I didn't cry a little (but not too much). It felt nice to just sit. A peaceful spot where I had often gone to "cosplay a stop in time", I was doing so again. I wondered if I looked out of place here (now that I'm considered an "alumni" and not a student). I wondered if I wanted to look like I didn’t fit, or if I was happy to still look as though I wasn't an older person revisiting "her glory days". I wondered why it mattered, and wondered even more about why I cared so much if it did. How marvelous, I had decided, to have this chapter to reflect on. How lucky am I to still have this place: a physical "safe haven" of sorts, where I felt secure enough to lay in the grass by myself and muse on what pushed me and what plagued me. How comforting to know that this place isn't going anywhere anytime soon (while still holding onto the sliver of hope that maybe I'm still going somewhere— although I don’t have a clue where that may be). And, knowing arguably, and even better— that somewhere is absolutely, and undeniably, up to me. Loneliness: 3 Freedom: 3
i miss you too<3