“Is it just you?”, the waitress asks as she pulls up a chair for me by the bar.
Oh, how I hate that sentence sometimes.
Yes, it’s just me.
For a long time it’s been. Just. Me.
On bad days I hear judgment in people’s questions, wondering why in the world I am here alone. I can see them pitying me as the lonely person who doesn’t have any friends and needs to have dinner alone.
On bad days I sit by myself drowning in self-pity and envy when I see groups of people around the tables, laughing and sharing each other’s lives. They seem to be having fun and I seem like an imposter to reality because I struggle to even make it out the door.
On bad days I am overwhelmed with the mental load that I can’t share with anyone, the big questions I have to hold alone or the memories no one else will remember with me.
On bad days my hunger to explore and be around other people is almost palpable while my loneliness will probably hold me back from actually stepping out.
But.
There are also the good days when all these things don’t really bother me. On good days I tell myself that no one really gives a shit about who is and isn’t in the restaurant (no one really does! How often do you really wonder about other people when you go out?) and everybody just goes their own way.
On good days I leave my doubts at home and go out anyway because as my sister says, “You’re still alone, but at least you experience something new.” Then I treat my loneliness like a faithful companion who gets to come along but not dictate the party.
On good days I watch others and smile at their friendships. And when I’m having a really brave day, I remember my motto for this year: curiosity over fear as I approach strangers with a sense of carefreeness to embrace whatever will happen next.
Writing for Five Minute Friday today. Okay, this just tumbled out of me
in a very vulnerable moment.
Treat it with kindness.
