I wonder at times what’s actually wrong – choosing to be alone, or being lonely, in itself. It’s a little confusing when I’m asked why I’m at a place all by myself… why not? I guess it’s the general tendency to connect absolutely irrelevant dots – “she’s alone, oh the poor thing… she might have had a bad break up” or “she must be depressed about something” or even “nobody might want to hang out with her, let’s go and talk to her so she might feel better…” seriously people… ever heard of the phrase “me time”?
Today’s Writing 101 assignment was to get inspired by a picture. When I scanned through the ones on Unsplash, I came across this picture of a single cup of coffee on a table.
I thought of the days I visit coffee shops or ambient lounges by myself and ask the staff for a “table for one”. Frequently visited spots greet me with a smile and an occasional bowl of complimentary snacks, while I sit down to a cup of hot coffee or a mug of beer, with a book in hand – either to read or to write. I don’t know if they do it ‘coz I’m a really nice person or because they feel I’m a lonely soul.
If ‘lonely’ is equal to being unwillingly alone, then that’s not me… But I choose to be by myself at times, most of the time actually. I love being at my own disposal, not dependent on another, doing what I like when I like and more than anything, not having to explain the myriad shades of my mind to anyone while I stare into space.
Yes, there are times when being alone is the last thing I want. For those days, there are a few special ones standing by to make sure I’m not alone.
But honestly, I don’t get the whole concept of “No one ever wants to be alone” it’s a really sweet gesture by the one who thinks about it but there’s always this need for me to clear my head, to understand stuff, to work, or to just freak out. Being by myself lets me appreciate the little differences made to my life.
From couching at home, to sitting at a coffee shop, I’m never the ‘alone’ that’s perceived by people around. It’s just about having the choice to believe that my life is not defined by the people I’m with but by what I am, whether it’s solitarily or socially.
We love hanging out with those select few people who we call friends. Well, I’m my friend and I know that no one could understand me better than myself. If spending time with someone who understands you, gives you the happiness much needed, then what’s so painfully different about me being the “lonely” one?
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/me-time/”>Me Time</a>