learning to be alone

"Will you be OK?" she asked as I left their apartment to go to my own empty one.

"Oh yeah, I'll be fine," I responded, I know I can be alone and be OK.

I'm not sure why, but I used to hate being alone. I would always call someone, anyone, to avoid the silence of solitude. I'm an extrovert by nature, conversation and people keep me going. I'll always feel happier with others than without them, but since going to college, I've learned the value of spending time with myself and my thoughts.

I've encountered an odd situation this week -- every single person who I would consider a good friend or acquaintance at Elon, who I would feel willing to call to spend time with, is away on spring break. I came back early from our week at the beach because my best friend here had to be back to present at a conference in Georgia. Her roommates, my other great friends, are away at a concert in the southern part of the state. My friend Lesley is in Maryland. Mandy and Olivia, Florida. My roommate, on a cruise in the Caribbean. And the list goes on, leaving me to myself. Alone.

Someone asked me a few days ago, what's one thing outside of your coursework that you have learned while at school? My response: I've learned to love being alone. I think when you spend 24 hours a day in a dorm for two years, then 4 months in a tiny flat with 7 other women, then in a busy apartment building, in a newspaper office... when you're constantly surrounded by people, even the most extraordinary extrovert would find themselves seeking some silence.

And so I've learned to value those hours when my roommate is at meetings. Or when I have to take that 15 minute walk across campus to work. Or when no one is free to go grocery shopping.

I think it all really started when I was in London. I liked to take walks around the city by myself. Don't worry, it was only ever during the day. But I found that I would walk slower, thinking about the things I was seeing, the people I was passing, the smells I was smelling. I wasn't distracted by someone asking me about my internship, or complaining about a paper to be written for our class. I could take it all in. I could absorb.

I've learned that my mind can be stimulated by the world itself, without others, that thoughts themselves can be loud enough. And that it's OK to enjoy moments of calm or evenings filled not by the voices of others, but by the tapping of my fingers on my computer keys or the scribblings of a pen on paper.

Maybe it's all part of growing up, knowing that you can survive the quiet. But not only survive it, learn to revel in it.