Solitude

Amidst all the chaos and bonding and new relationships this summer I've managed to spend a lot of time with myself. Everyday I bike/walk/longboard to Core Club on my own. I eat many of my meals absorbed in a good book or magazine. Today I was the only person in my yoga class. At work I have my own office. My summer roommate moved out this afternoon, so I have the space to myself until I couch-surf at KC/MW's next week. I wandered into this awesome used book store the other day and got lost alone amongst the smell of dust and wisdom for almost an hour. Speaking of books, my two main reads this summer have been "100 Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and "Desert Solitaire" by Edward Abbey. Notice the titles. I realized today that it has been almost a year since I broke off my relationship with LJ. Sometimes on my solo treks I play pretend. I've grown comfortable with the static in my mind. I dance like a wild woman when no one is watching. I’ve learned to laugh at myself when I realize someone is in fact watching. I take absurdly long baths, lingering in the nakedness. I take myself on dates, a hobby I picked up from the amazing HR. So although I really am quite a social creature, I've taken time this summer to hang out with someone I've really grown to love. And from this I’ve learned that while lonesomeness is easily one of the most terrible statess, it's often mistaken cousin, voluntary solitude, is truly bliss.