On loneliness

Last night – for a moment there – I was overwhelmed by that bitter sweet feeling of loneliness. Sweet because it’s such a strong emotion, such a physical emotion; bitter, well I guess it’s pretty obvious. After all it isn’t the nicest of emotions.

I haven’t felt lonely for quite a while there. I’ve been quite happy living a half-cloistered existence. I’ve purposefully been keeping to myself because a) it’s cheap b) I’ve really been enjoying doing my own thing and c) I see quite enough people at my work every day, thank you very much.

But yesterday was different. My boss’ son turned 20 and had a party in the café I was working in. That meant I was pouring drinks and making small talk with a big group of boisterous, loud and (after I’d poured a bit too much alcohol into them) quite drunk early 20 somethings.

Then – when I closed shop – they all left to do their own thing.

I was left behind and that warm social feeling just dropped away. Suddenly it was just me left to lock the door bike home alone, return to my (quite literally) empty room and my crumpled bed.

I think the thing was that I had no control over when the social thing ended. Or maybe I did (after all, it was my choice when to close the shop); but my responsibilities today played through my mind yesterday and forced me to hold back – forced me to act responsible.

Generally I dig that entire acting responsible thing. I enjoy having the feeling that I’m not wasting my life away. That I’ve got a purpose and a reason for doing things. That I’m building towards something. Still, it’s hard to let go of all those irresponsible thoughts and deeds that clouded my past. Being irresponsible is so much fun!

Have I finally truly grown up?

That’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Maturity even for the likes of me. Not to worry, though. It can never truly claim me. I sometimes forget that I have to be able to laugh at myself, but when that happens, life always conspires to teach me that lesson again – possibly even more roughly than last time. For he who can’t laugh at himself is in for a world of sorrow. I think all true humour comes from being able to take yourself with a grain of salt. I hope I never become so old that I forget that.

I also hope I never get so old that I become truly lonely. It’s a great emotion to feel every so often, just for the strength of it; but it could destroy you if you felt it every day, waking and sleeping.

I think loneliness is worse than depression. If you’re depressed you can share it with other depressed people and gain some traction. If you’re lonely; well, you’ve obviously only got yourself.