I’m happy when I’m alone. I’m happy because I’m alone. I’m happy despite being alone. Loneliness brings me happiness. I’m happy even when I’m alone. All these sentences makes sense to me in some way or another. Perhaps I have a little bit of lingering disbelief at the fact, but it’s true. I no longer feel the need to surround myself with people in order to enjoy my happiness, despite what TV keeps telling me.
It’s not my own disbelief either. I love the expression on the faces of the waiters after they ask me how many seats I need, and I say, “just one please.” I love going out alone. Even my sister doesn’t accept the fact that I am going alone somewhere. I don’t choose to be alone, but more often than not, it’s just easier to be alone. I feel sometimes that I need to take a course in event coordination in order to have a simple outing with a group of people.
I just think it’s nice to be able to be comfortable enough to sit with yourself, and I really feel bad for people who can’t do that. But still, these precious few moments when you feel happy and alone go away, and then you remember your friends. I’m a person who greatly values his friends, and very often do I feel sad if I can’t see them for some reason or another. I always carry that bit of sadness and yearning in my heart, but I still feel happy when I’m alone.