The Chronicles of Alex

As I was wandering around Washington D.C. alone, I began thinking about how I love being alone. I love being alone, because there is no pressure or plan. I shared a meal with other solo lunchers, played with some kids in a neighborhood as I made my way to the sights, and hopped on a bike when I was ready to finally check into my hotel. I can make a decision for me and me alone without thinking how it affects someone else’s needs or desires. This isn’t selfish; it is just easier. I would love to share experiences with someone, but that requires bending by two or more people. 

I am grateful every day for the people in my life and the adventures I have shared with them, but there is something about being alone that is magical yet isolating. I have found immense joy in doing a lot of things alone – running, traveling, listening to music, baking, the list goes on. I take things in more deeply and can be present in a different experience than if it were shared with other people. It’s a spiritual experience being alone. 

While I enjoy my solo adventures, this can become lonely. I want to share the experience with others, be able to share a fun fact out loud without startling a random person, or slug bug whoever is closet when I see the iconic Volkswagon Beetle. Humans are social creatures after all; I’m not a psychologist, but I believe they’d agree with me… Being alone is freeing but comes at a cost. 

I haven’t quite decided if this cost is worth it. I’m not sure the religion of being alone is worth my soul. Do I create a career I want and travel the world or start a family? Do I disappear for a few months to explore and return with stories I’d never dreamt of? Do I begin and settle into life as expected? I have no idea what the best choice for me is.

All I know is: never settle, because the right people will support any possibility and do it with you if they dare. Settling comes with regret, and regret is worse than fear.