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Solitude: (sä-lə-tüd), defined as: a lonely place.
The word solitude generally brings a negative connotation with it; so if that’s the case, then why does it feel so good.
People always say things like, “the more the merrier” when it comes to making friends. Of course, having friends is great. It has many appeals like shared interest and support. Friend also bring a sort of convenience into your life. They do you favors and are there to help when you need it. But friends aren’t always what you need. Sometimes alone time is good.
My friend group has a tradition where, every Tuesday and Thursday after school, we walk to the public library. It was a small group at first with only one or two other people tagging along. But as the group grew, the more I felt I needed to get away. I would walk far ahead of the group just enough so that I could still hear them, but not be bothered.
Some would make little comments and jokes about how I was, “trying to run away from them,” and I would never have admitted it, but a part of it was true.
I found a way to get around the annoyance and overstimulation of walking with the group. A simple solution, really. I would just simply…not. I found a different way to walk to the same place. A longer way. One that no one else walked. I admit that the way I came up with this new way was through wanting to see someone I should’ve moved on from ages ago. I wanted to find a way that I could see them and still get where I needed to go. The first few times felt like a chore, but then the more I did it, the better it felt. I no longer did it to see that person, and instead started enjoying it for myself.
When I walked this new way, I didn’t have to worry about others lagging behind or the pitch of their voices. I could walk in silence or with music blasting in my ears without having to worry about others. I could scream out the lyrics to a song with no one around to hear me. No one to judge me. In this solitude the voices stop. They don’t say anything. Nothing at all. True peace. But then when I reach the crosswalk parallel to my school, the guilt hits.
It screams, “you’re so selfish,” and “others have it worse, and you don’t see them needing an out.”
So I scream the lyrics out louder, and the voices shut up once again. But the damage has been done. The thoughts float around my mind even when I’m alone.
People say that sometimes it’s good to be alone with your thoughts. Maybe for regular people. Or people who don’t have to worry about the things they might say before they say them. Or people who gained closure from their past. Or people who have the gift of being able to ignore the things their brain shouts at them.
The things that say, “do it, do it, do it. You know you want to,” or, “just this one last time. Then we’ll stop.”
What I would give to have a quiet front door. That sounds weird, yes. But the front door I have makes the loudest cracking noise when being opened and/or closed. When the thoughts are too much, I would give anything to be able to sneak out and take a walk. I wouldn’t go anywhere or do anything per say. I would just look up at the stars and smile. The moon and stars are so beautiful when you can see them clearly. What I would give to be able to sneak out in the middle of the night and sit down at the neighborhood gazebo and look up at the stars; hearing nothing but the light wind blowing past and the crickets chirping.
Solitude. It’s a funny concept really. One minute it’s the best thing in the world; no one to bother you, nothing to worry about. Then the next it’s your own personal purgatory that you created, right inside your head. Perhaps solitude does make you feel lonely. But I guess I like it like that.