Solo Sunsets Are Still Beautiful

I often journal for my own personal benefit. I sit down with my laptop and ramble a stream of consciousness while I process through my thoughts and emotions with little coherence. I don’t originally intend for it to ever be made public, so I’m not composing it in a particularly literary form. However, sometimes I wonder if there are other people who share similar thoughts. In an effort to cultivate an environment of transparency and openness, I’ve decided to share this particular entry to publicly acknowledge my "not so pretty" side, and to also open the doors of communication to anyone else who may be able to relate. 

So a fair warning: in addition to being somewhat incoherent and rambling, it’s also kind of a pity party that doesn’t end with a big call to action of encouragement and hope. Sorry. But let’s be honest; a lot of my daily contemplations don’t always end with optimism. Again: that’s the realness exposed from my personal journal entries... I hope you don't mind. And I hope you're able to follow the trail of thought. Welcome to the inside of my head. :)

If you experience something, but don’t have anyone to share it with, is it still real?

The obvious answer is, of course, yes. But then why does it feel so lonely to watch a sunset by myself? I’m compelled to share it with someone. I want to take pictures and send them to my friends or post them online. I want to share the experience with someone else. I want another person to somehow validate the experience itself, as well as my existence within that experience.

That doesn’t make sense. I know better. I know I’m a whole human being all on my own. I want to rely on God, alone, to validate my self-worth. I shouldn’t depend on another human to authenticate my thoughts, feelings, or experiences as genuine.

I know it all in my head. But it still sucks to live my life solo a lot of the time.

I miss it. I miss having a person to share my everyday with. The mundane. The silly. The nobody-cares-but-you. The big and the little. I miss giving and receiving continuous updates of days and feelings and life in general. Things happen, now, and no one knows. Unless I decide to post it on social media like the attention seeking, insecure person that I really am, but don’t want to acknowledge. Or unless I randomly text a friend out of the blue. But when it comes down to it, nobody cares. Nobody is interested. Nobody is wondering how my day went or what I had for dinner. Nobody is curious of how I spend my time or how various trivial situations are going.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I know that many people care about me as a person. They care about my well being, health, and happiness. If I ever volunteer a story to a person in my life, they’re generally interested in what I have to say. But it’s just not the same. It’s not the same as a text in the middle of the afternoon asking how my day is going. Or ending the night by asking for a recap of all of the mundane details of my day. Or following up to see how a meeting went or time with friends or even a basic lawn mow. It’s not necessarily that people don’t care about these things; it’s more that there’s no person in my life (besides my awesome mama) who even knows about the minutiae of my daily grind. There’s no one so deeply involved in my every day that I can even share those kinds of details with.

I miss it. I miss having a person who is genuinely interested in my life. And even more, a person who is equally vested in that life. A person who sincerely has something to gain or lose based on the outcome of decisions and circumstances. And I miss being involved in someone else’s world and being welcomed and invited to invest my attention and energy into them. 

I miss the "good mornings" and the "good nights."

It’s hard sometimes, and it’s oftentimes lonely. I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be an obnoxious friend or a needy person in general, but I can’t deny how nice it would be to have a constant companion in my life. And as much as I adore my dog, I’d prefer a companion who has actual thoughts I can hear and literal words with which to discuss things, not to mention hands to hold and arms to envelope me as I collapse into an open and comfortable embrace.

I hesitate to say all this. I don’t want to appear desperate. I don’t want to pretend like I’m not complete on my own. I know better. I know I’m a whole person all by myself, and I don’t need any other person to complete me in any way. I don’t want to come off as pitiful or perpetuate the false idea that a person isn’t complete without a partner. I actually feel very strongly about defending independence and individuality. I’ll preach about it on a rather high horse to anyone who will listen to me. But today, on a boring Saturday of too much Netflix and a mute sunset, I’m sad. I’m just sad.

Somehow it all feels so worthless.

I know that’s not true... I contradict every emotion I have with logic and intellect. In my head, I know that life still has meaning and purpose even without anyone around to witness it. But tonight, it just doesn’t feel that way.

What does that mean? Does that mean I have more to work on in myself? Does that mean, even more, that I shouldn’t pursue any sort of relationship, because I’m not yet content on my own? Or does that mean that I’m finally starting to be ready to pursue one, because the longing is beginning to steadily grow?

  

For a couple of weeks, I tasted it again. I liked this guy, and we spent quite a bit of time together and talked nonstop from morning's alarm to light's out. A true relationship between us wasn't possible due to various complications of time and space beyond any control of our own, so it had to end sooner rather than later. Which means our above-average friendship and extreme involvement in each other’s daily lives could only last a fortnight, before we had to be wise about the situation and consciously resist investing in something that could never truly amount to anything substantial. Sometimes, being responsible is simply the worst.

But what it did do was remind me of how much I miss it. And how great it really can be to share my constant life with someone. And, boy, do I ever miss it. And wow, can it really be great.

Was it a good thing to have that quick experience of emotional intimacy? Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. It sure did feel great while it lasted. But it also uncovered some truths that I was kind of happy to leave hidden away. I had rather convinced myself that I was fine on my own and didn’t ever need to share my life with another person again. I believed I didn’t miss it or want it. But I was wrong. On both accounts.

So after only two weeks of having someone involved in the intricacies of my world, here I am again trying to readjust to life alone. How did I get so accustomed to a companion so quickly? It took no time at all to fit right back into that wonderful dynamic. It was so nice and natural and comforting and fun. It had taken me months to learn how to be on my own, and only a couple quick days of constant texting to relish in the companionship again. It makes me so nervous.

And now here I am. Watching the sunset alone and not sending a photo to anyone. 

So did the sunset still happen?

Of course it did. Obviously. But why does it feel so much cheaper, somehow, because nobody else experienced it with me. That doesn’t even make sense. Ugh.

Grown-Up Snow Day

[My beautiful, snowy house]

Today is a snow day. You know how I know? Because I said so. That’s why. And that’s the only reason why in my case.

There’s no one else in my life to tell me so, which means I have to declare it on my own. I don’t have a principal to call off school, and I don’t have a boss that will close the office for weather events. (It is tax season, after all.) I just have to decide for myself what is best. I don’t have anybody to bounce things off of or provide advice or suggestions in times like these. It’s all part of my new, single life. I, alone, am responsible for me. 

Duh. That’s clear. I know you just read that sentence like it’s an understood truth for everybody in the world, and could I just be a little more Captain Obvious, please. But take a minute and think about it.

Sometimes, don’t you share your self-responsibility with other people? And isn’t that actually oftentimes kinda nice? When I was young, there was always an authority over me who had the final say. First, it was my parents. Then, in addition to them, my school teachers and other officials. As I got older, I gradually assumed more responsibility for my own actions, but still, I had the guidance of other people to help me navigate through each of life’s obstacles. Eventually, that partnership came in the form of a spouse.

Now, even though I am positive that my personal dysfunction and insecurities led me to participate in a relationship where I surrendered more of my individual control than is ever healthy, much of me, like I'm guessing many of you, still enjoyed sharing the responsibility of my life with another human being.

But now I can’t do that. Now, it’s all up to me. If I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done. If I want it done, I have to be the one to do it. And on days when I wake up to multiple inches of snow on the ground in Nashville, I have to personally decide if I’m going to go into the office or stay home. Sure, I take the news reports into consideration, as well as the actions of some close coworkers, but ultimately the decision is solely up to me.

So, this morning, as an independent, responsible adult, I woke up, saw the beautiful, terrible snow on the ground and still pouring from the sky, turned on the news, decided I’d wait a few hours before I’d risk the roads, and went back to bed. That sounds great, I know, and the extra sleep truly was, but I actually don’t want to be missing any more work. You see, I’ve already had to use a ton of sick time to cover the snow days from this unusual winter we’re experiencing, and I’m intending to save as much paid time off as I can in preparation of any unknowns that might crop up during the remainder of the year. When I skip work, I’m still the one who has to pay for it. So if I had it my way, I’d go to work today from 8:00 to 5:00 just like every other Monday through Friday and not have to worry about it. But today I had to decide.

I eventually woke up again at 9:00, which was truly fantastic; let’s be honest. But then I still had to figure out what I was going to do for the day. I equal parts wanted to spend the day tucked away in my pj’s snuggled up with my dog as well as go to work, earn my paycheck, and save that sick time for any unforeseen events in the future. Missing work and utilizing sick time ultimately hurts no one but me (although the office is essentially effected), and, likewise, going to work to ration my paid time off benefits no one other than myself. So I had to decide what to do. For me. By myself. #againCaptainObvious

I wanted both options, and I also wanted neither. And there was no other presence in my life to influence me either way. I’m not going to lie; there was a moment this morning I wished I could just follow instructions and not have to make any decisions. But that simply wasn’t the case. (I’m also not going to lie even more: There are many moments of many days that I wish I could just follow someone else’s instruction and not have to be an independent, responsible adult, having to make my own decisions. But now that’s never the case.)

So I decided to be a grown up and venture out into the white tundra to pursue my lively accounting firm smack dab in the middle of Tax Season. I had to decide whether it was time, whether I was ready, whether I wanted it, whether it was safe enough to risk, whether my primary responsibility was to my job or to my safety. I watched the final minutes of the news reports that mentioned slow traffic movement with surprisingly minimal accidents thanks to the Nashville cititzens who are heading advice to stay off the roads. I checked my maps app on my phone that showed yellow (slow) movement along my route to the office with no wrecks. I figured I could chance it. In that moment, I wanted to be in the office and all that comes along with that, more than I wanted to not be in the office and all that comes along with that.  #decisionsandconsequences

I got dressed, packed my lunch, said good-bye to my favorite pup in the world, climbed into my protected car, and pulled out of the safe garage into the fresh inches of snow. I received a boost of confidence when I saw a couple other tire tracks leading out of various driveways in my neighborhood, indicating that other people had also left their homes, presumably safely. I drove carefully on the side road, even though there is no one in my life to say “drive carefully” as I leave the house. I felt confident-ish enough on this freshly packed snow to make it to the office and get in a good day’s work.

Then I made it to the main road. I had to pass a car diligently attempting to evade the precariously nearby ditch. I had to turn down Taylor Swift and keep my hands on 10 and 2 to avoid treacherous ruts left behind by previous, brave drivers. I had to ever-so-slowly stop behind cars at red lights and then struggle to not spin out like those near me when we started inching forward again. I had to maintain control of my car when I slightly fish tailed on that downward slope near Walgreens.

And then I had to make the grown-up decision that this was not worth it. I wasn’t even to the interstate yet, and I was already feeling uneasy about the travel. I maybe could have eventually made it to work, but I didn't want to then have to drive back home in the dark on these same dangerous roads that could possibly have grown even worse over the course of the day. So I independently decided to slloooooowwly make a U-turn and head back the way I had come - a failed attempt at driving to the office, and a successful exercise in independent responsibility.

Nobody gave me “permission” to call it a day. Nobody listened to the details of my story and sympathetically replied, “Yeah, that’s not worth it. You shouldn’t risk it. Go home.”  Nobody was there to encourage me one way or the other. All of these things I took for granted for so long. Today, I had to decide what was best for me, by myself.

Today is a snow day, because I declared it a snow day.

I gave it my effort and still decided I didn’t trust my driving skills combined with my small car in these unsafe driving conditions. I came to the personal conclusion that I’d rather use 8 more hours (8 more hours!) of my sick time than attempt to drive to work and risk a potential accident.

I know this all seems so silly and trivial, but it's just today's current example of why sometimes it’s really weird being single. I know that people love and care about me, but on a daily basis concerning minute-to-minute functioning, my actions affect no one other than myself. Nobody really cared if I went to the office or if I stayed home. Nobody was frustrated or pleased by my decision to turn my car around, leading me to finally let out a sigh of relief as I pulled safely back into my garage. (Besides Chester, who acted like I had been gone for 58 hours upon my return.)

It’s strange knowing that there is virtually nobody else in the world who is even aware of what I decide to do on a regular basis, let alone who genuinely cares about it. There’s no other person who is as equally invested in my life, actions, decisions, and the coordinating results as I am. I don’t know if you can really relate to that unless you’re a single adult. I know I never could have before.

I went straight from school to marriage just like a “good little Christian woman’s” life is supposed to (another soap box for another day), and I never experienced true aloneness or the responsibility and freedom that accompanies it. Before, I would have absolutely said that each person is solely responsible for him- or herself, but I wouldn’t have known exactly what I was talking about. Yes, ultimately that is the truth, even in any sort of relationship. But sometimes, we take for granted how nice it is to be able to share that responsibility with someone else.

But then again, sometimes it’s nice to not.

Welcome to my life.