A Date with Loneliness
Written By: Angelina Tamarona ‘28
Edited By: Angelica Marin ‘27
I’ve recently found myself dealing with an old acquaintance, Loneliness. As autumn progresses , I struggle to embrace the newly changing environment. The air gets colder and the wind gets stronger, and I begin to crave the warmth and comfort of my bed. Simple walks in the Commons now feel like a chore, skipping classes feels more enticing, and invitations take more discipline to accept. I start my season of nesting, and in my bed I prepare for an early hibernation.
Although I do my best to ignore the codependency I have with my room, I find myself bedding a reoccurring partner—the “L” word. Loneliness. I pretend not to know it. It can be whatever it wants—an adjective, a noun. It can shape shift into different forms—verbs and adverbs. I treat loneliness like a monster under the bed, and maybe everyone does too. But why is it so embarrassing to walk with loneliness by my side?
Still, sometimes Loneliness is the companion I go to for a little extra solace.
Loneliness has many forms. Is taking loneliness on a date the same as being in a relationship with the concept of being alone? I know I’m not lonely. I have friends and family that invite me to coffee and lunch, and different groups to hang out with. There is no reason for me to resort to loneliness. Is loneliness the Ex that I need to confront to begin this new season?
Does loneliness only accompany me in transitional periods? If I were to be on the Moon, would a walk through craters seem easier? After all there are no distractions, and maybe loneliness feels different on the Moon.
That’s all a fantasy of course. Moonlit walks with loneliness are the closest I’ll get to a walk on the Moon. A late night stroll through an art museum can feed the soul. Even a lone cup of coffee soothes a busy brain.
Try your hand at a simple date with loneliness, even a periodic one—plan it out and take in every moment. Sit by the duck pond with music and a good book—one for the two of you. Loneliness may exist for a few days a year; but it isn’t indefinite. I may have weeks joyfully bedding loneliness, but I’m never alone. Take loneliness on the occasional date, maybe it’ll teach you something new, or you’ll discover a new hobby, and let loneliness fade into the background in time.