Loneliness Is A Blessing & A Curse

This one is for the introverts.

There are moments in life where I’m glad to be alone. Where the voice of another human beings will cause me a headache. And in those moments I’m thankful to be alone. To be away from crowded spaces. From the loud noise of a bar or hustle and bustle of a city. Sometimes being wrapped up with my kindle on a Friday night is good enough for me.

But you see, your brain truly has a mind of its own. In the oddest of times, it will take me somewhere completely different. Somewhere I don’t even want to go. My heart will start to feel tight and a wave of sorrow will come over me. Suddenly loneliness becomes a curse. I will find myself yearning for things I haven’t ever really felt or known. Yet somehow my brain knows how to conceptualise it perfectly. The feeling of true love. This is not me saying I’ve never known companionship, I have. But I don’t know what true love feels like. Real, unfiltered and carnal. And it will be on the oddest nights this feeling will overwhelm me. I will wish for something I’m not quite sure I want. Not saying I don’t want love, or to be in love. I simply don’t understand what kind I need. Which is probably why I choose solitude most of the time. Because it frightens me that what I want isn’t attainable. I rather not know than be disappointed.

You could say to a certain extent I am an ambivert. I do enjoy being out (only people I’m extremely comfortable with). I spent most of my teenage years being introverted. This wasn’t something that really bothered me, being the youngest child to immigrant Middle Eastern parents, I knew it was a given. I wouldn’t have the same freedoms other teenagers would. At the time I wished a little it was different, in hindsight now I’m grateful for my mothers discipline. But for the whole part, I always enjoyed being alone for the most part. During university, I made no long term friends. For the most part, I made no effort. But also (and unnecessarily) people found me intimidating and I quote “aggressive”. (I never once got into a fight at university). Those micro aggressions made me immediately pull back into my safe space.

The friends I had were enough for me; and to this day I still stand by that. My bestfriend is really all I need. To be honest, I don’t seem to trust people that have a million friends. Now here we are, on a Friday night, I’m writing this and you’re reading it. We’re both alone, there’s a high chance we’re okay with that. Yet there’s a slim chance, it makes your heart heavy like it does mine.

Most of the time I’ll shake my head at the prospect of being with someone. It’s in the quiet nights, where I can go a whole day without opening my mouth and speaking a word, I realise it bothers me. More than it should, more than it needs to. I hate it. I hate that it pricks at me. And under this thought process I begin to wonder if my time has passed me by. If I had a chance of being blissfully happy with someone and I didn’t realise it. Sadly, the finger starts to point at me and I end up blaming myself for being alone.

My friends are my everything, and most of the time that yearning feeling doesn’t exist because I’m happy around them. But like all people, people go home. They go on dates with their partners. They are occupied with life. So that feeling crawls back in and I find myself purposefully finding sad movies to watch to justify a few tears. (Which is wildly unnatural for me because I despise crying). It increasingly becomes harder to shove that feeling away, and I find myself being consumed by it. Not really knowing how to get rid of it.

So I do what I do best, I pick a new book and get into bed.