“knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. when we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as an escape”– bell hooks
my roommate refers to me as an introvert, which initially i thought peculiar – i stand up in front of classrooms/studios full of people putting on a dog and pony show for a living, multiple times a day. my undergraduate degree demanded that i be on stage or in some sort of performance situation almost daily.
yet while i’m completely comfortable being in front of people…i don’t particularly like being around them.
when i want somebody to be a part of my life, and i let them in, and let my walls down, the more relaxed side of me comes out. that side of me that laughs loudly and talks nonstop and could spend all day sitting in the dining room talking about everything over coffee or wine
or the raspberry wheat shock top ale i am STILL dying to try.
but when you get right down to it…i like being alone. i grew up an only child in a house on the outskirts of town, no neighbors. i became amazingly adept at self-entertainment, and to this day i love nothing more than to spend an afternoon curled up on the couch reading an entire book or cross-stitching until my feet fall asleep.
which makes it all the more strange that i’m still finding times when i so desperately miss my former other half. times when i roll over in the middle of the night and wish with all of my half-asleep heart that i was wrapping myself around k, not simply reaching into air.
i know how to be solitary. i’ve done it all my life, in one way or another. but re-learning how to be alone after you’ve experienced the other side…that’s a whole different ballgame.