The Art of being Alone

As I sit here, alone with my beer and my computer on a beach front in Bali, I am forced to think about a lot of things. Even as I walked down the street here in Amed today I was pushed to consider my current state. I am alone and alone by choice. I’ve always prided myself on the fact that I am better off alone than with someone else, but today I found myself feeling…dare I say it…lonely and even worse, a bit embarrassed by the fact that I am a 31 year old woman travelling alone, alone by choice…but feeling lonely. Three times today I have been asked “you are alone?” in a somewhat shocked/condescending tone. Now I understand that this is Bali and the mere concept of a woman, let alone a ancient 31 year old woman, being alone and not wanting to get married or *gasp* have babies, is shocking and sad to the locals. But really, do you have to say it as if there is something wrong with me? Maybe I should have said that me and “Wheels” ended up falling madly in love just to stop this one road village from whispering about me (and the men from planning their attack route to win the heart that “Wheels” failed to capture – which I’m sure is my current label on the mean streets of Jemeluk). The truth is that I don’t like feeling lonely and watching all these foreign couples walk hand in hand down the sand and sit eating dinner together gives me a strange feeling that I can’t really place. It’s not jealousy of being in a relationship, since I am still of the mind that me and relationships don’t mix very well, but I guess I’m jealous of the fact that they have someone to spend time with. I wish I could just meet a perfect gay man to accompany me around the world. I’m not one for love but I am one for companionship and I would be much more relaxed if I had someone to spend time with while I am away. I guess that’s the gap that “Wheels” filled while I was here last time. He was someone to talk to and hang out with and we got along really well, even if his intentions were a bit more than I could ever reciprocate. It’s too bad that many Balinese men I've met can’t separate the concepts of sex and hanging out. To them these are not two different things, in their minds one should naturally follow the other which means that I can’t really befriend Balinese men unless I'm willing to face the complications and turn downs that are likely to follow. 


I guess I will need to come to terms with my anti-relationshipism at some point. All my friends and coworkers like to spend their time psychoanalyzing my lack of desire to be attached to someone and most of them come up with the same answer – I am scared blah blah blah. Honestly though, I don’t think that’s it. I’m pretty sure I have it figured out. I’m selfish which I must admit is probably worse than being scared but there isn’t a lot I can do about it. I think initially it started as fear, after Luciano I swore I would never put myself in a situation like that again where my feelings and my future were in the hands of another person. I was terrified of losing myself in someone only to have things not work out and never get that piece of me back. But I think as time has passed I’ve moved away from fear to more cynicism and selfishness. I don’t believe in love. It never works out. In the modern world where women don’t feel the need to live their lives miserably attached to men they no longer care for because society demands they should, everyone gets divorced. Lifelong love is a farce, a societal construction that we have programmed ourselves to believe through movies and books and TV commercials. The sad part is when it doesn’t work out so many people have managed to convince themselves that the TV version is the status quo and they end up hating themselves because they couldn’t make it work. The truth is, It is not reality and anyone who believes that it is real is in for a brutal wake up call when 10,20,30 years down the road they find themselves picking up the pieces of their illusion. I don’t really want to be that person but at the same time I question whether 10,20,30 years down the road I’m going to be the one wishing I would have let the illusion win and convince me. I don’t know, I guess we can never really know what is going to happen in our lives and we need to just go along as we feel comfortable with. Maybe I will be the one who will end up miserable and alone in the end (as all my friends and family seem to think I will) or maybe I’ll be the only one content with my life as all my friends cry into their beers that their perfect dreams were simply that, dreams. I guess only time will tell. Or maybe, just maybe I just need to the right person to come along to tame this cold hearted beast. Now wouldn't that make you all happy :)
Cheers from the centre of cynicism


J