This is the first time I've been alone in a very, very long time. It's been even longer if you don't count the times I've been alone but busy working. And it's very strange. All I can think of are the Wednesdays I'd spend alone in my room all day. Those were years ago, yes, but they reveal a little something about me that I don't think would have occurred to me otherwise. It was like a challenge. A matter of principle. If you leave this room, you fail, you let yourself down.
The entire time, I knew it was absolutely meaningless, but my stubbornness wouldn't let me leave. It was the only kind of ultimatum I ever made. To myself. Because more important than keeping my word to anyone else or anyone else keeping their word for me, I had to keep any promise I made myself. I lied and cheated often in my life, but always prided myself on being honest with me.
Even though I never really was.
But I don't think any of us ever can be. Looking back on my childhood, I never was normal. I'll divulge an embarrassing secret to illustrate the point: when I was twelve, I kept a diary in a black notebook where I'd etched into the cover "Suicidal 12" even though I definitely wasn't suicidal and wasn't even terribly depressed, if I was at all. What can I say--it seemed like a good idea at the time?
I liked to pretend I was all sorts of things I wasn't. Sophisticated, especially. I had an obsession with being more mature than anyone around me. In a way, I still struggle with this. I'll never admit it in person, but I like to think I'm better than people. I desperately want to believe that I'm brilliant because my life loses all significance if I haven't accomplished at least something meaningful.
As I sit here alone, listening to music at an oddly low volume (perhaps to better feel my own solitude?), I'm trying to reflect on my life. Trying, I say, because it's terribly hard to be an objective observer in something as subjective as one's own life. I wish I had more childhood secrets to share, because those always seem to bring a smile to my face because of their ridiculousness. I have plenty of stories from adolescence, but some of those are still too close to blog about. I'm sure they'll come out eventually, but not yet.
I'm pretty sure I had plans to do something productive with the time tonight, but it's been a while since I've listened to music and thought about life, so I don't really regret it. I wonder what you'd say if you saw me now. If you'd look down on me for sitting in on a Friday night or if you'd scorn the mess that is my room or if you'd join me in this little corner that is mine and sit in a comfortable silence. But each you would do something different, and some would inevitably do something other than the above.
I can't tell if I'm quite proud of my life or greatly disappointed. I was a "gifted" child, but never a prodigy. Part of me always secretly hoped I was. Regardless of what I was or wasn't or am or am not, I've always had trouble finding a measure of my success. Happiness is a difficult one to use when one may or may not be depressed. Income and other possessions never appealed much to me. The number of people I slept with stopped meaning anything as soon as it hit 1. The nights I didn't remember...well, I never had those, so they don't mean anything either. It's hard to judge myself by the standards set forth by today's society because they mean so little to me.
I have no religion to use as a standard for a good life. And my personal morals never fully developed. So how do I tell if my life is fulfilling or not? Is it good enough? Am I good enough? I like to pretend that I don't care what people think about me, but really I do, because it's an easy way to measure myself against others. Because even though other peoples' opinions aren't nearly as important as one's own, they help to form it, to give it a certain shape. And that's always been as good a framework as any for me.
I don't really know where my life is going from here. I hope I'm doing things well to get to where I want to go, but I have no way of really knowing. I'm sure I'll understand life better one day than I do now, but that doesn't mean I don't understand it at all. I just hope I don't misunderstand it terribly. But I guess I'll find out...eventually.
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