I do a lot of things by myself. I cook, clean, re-arrange furniture, pay my bills, and open jars of spaghetti sauce by myself. Over the past year, I have gone to movies alone, gone shopping alone, and gone out to eat at a restaurant all by myself. I frequently walk by myself, go shopping at the mall by myself, and have even attended dance classes sans partner. This usually doesn't bother me. In fact, I almost prefer going to movies alone now. I like to watch movies on DVD with my friends, but when it comes to the movie theatre, I rarely attend with anyone anymore.
Now I realize this makes me sound kind of lonely, but the truth is actually quite the opposite. I have many friends and family members that I love dearly and see quite often. I have just come to appreciate being alone. I might even go so far as to admit to liking being alone sometimes.
Yes, I wish there was someone with my overly-vocal feline to greet me at the door when I came home. Sure, it would be nice if I could cook for someone other than myself and if I had someone to share my mundane daily thoughts. Of course someday I'd like to crawl into bed next to a significant other and snuggle. But to be honest, right now being alone isn't so bad. It is kind of pleasant. I can walk around in my underwear, not clean up my spill from cooking until after I eat, watch TV guilt free at 3am when I can't sleep, sleep right smack dab in the middle of my bed, and drink the milk right out of the container.
Life is good, and so I have come to enjoy the pleasures of living and doing things alone.
But alas, as I went around the corner to celebrate our country's independence this evening by watching colorful explosives, I began to doubt my security. With no friends in town who were not already with other family or had small children, I decided to walk the 1/2 mile and watch the fireworks by myself. I didn't even think twice about it. Once I got there, I felt confident and full of self-worth for about 10 minutes, and then I started getting a little twitchy.
First of all, I didn't know where to sit. Where were the fireworks going to be exactly? Which trees were going to be in the way? How close could I get to those people? Was someone saving that spot?
Finally, I chose a spot kind of behind a couple with no children and in front of a tree. I felt out of the way there, and it seemed, based on the direction people were facing, like I would have a decent view of the display. I stood for a while, then decided I would feel less conspicuous sitting down. So I sat in the grass, despite being incredibly allergic to grass.
After about two minutes, I chastised myself for being so self-conscious and stood back up. Everyone else was with friends, neighbors, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, husbands, wives, boyfriends, or girlfriends. No one else was alone. No one that I could see up and down either side of the river or on my little walk to the edge of the lake looked like they were alone.
Desperately, I began to scan the crowd for people I might know. Were there any colleagues already here with their families? Maybe I could sit with them or at least engage in some friendly banter or pleasant small talk for a few moments? Was that one of my students? I could go check in on the family? But alas I found no one, so I returned to my spot near the tree.
I stayed for the entire fireworks display, and even tolerated the incredibly loud teenagers that eventually came and stood really close to me, drawing a lot of attention to me - the quiet adult sitting all alone in the grass right next to the noisy teenagers using a lot of inappropriate language in close proximity of little kids. They did leave after about five minutes, so that was good.
Isn't it funny, though, that I have no problem eating alone in a busy restaurant - sometimes without a crutch such as a book or crossword puzzle - and even signed up for a second dance class all by my lonesome knowing that most people would show up with partners, however it seems I have an issue attending fireworks displays by myself?
And that is how the 4th of July made me feel socially inept, awkward, and uncomfortable.
On that note, Happy Fourth of July, and a Merry belated Canada Day!
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