I’m getting used to this whole “being alone” thing.
There was a time when it felt like the most frightening thing imaginable. Just being alone with your own thoughts… no where to hide.
I wanted people around me 24-7. The second I was left by myself, the anxiety would hit like a ton of bricks. Laid in bed at night, the quickening heartbeat, the loss of breath. It’s that feeling that the walls are closing in around you, and all you can do is desperately fight for air.
Here… it’s not like that. Being alone is where my imagination takes me places; in the best way.
I’m finding myself reconnecting with a side I thought I’d lost forever. I’m walking around and my head is buzzing with all the things I want to see, read, write about.
I’m thinking about the person I want to be, and how I’m going to get there.
I’m thinking about what matters. What truly matters.
Because now, I don’t have to prove myself to anyone. There’s no one to impress, no one to judge. It’s just me. And I’m really enjoying that.
Here, I’d say i’m just as busy. But I’m busy doing it by myself; busy finding out what I love. I’ll walk around the fairy tale streets for hours, simply absorbing every single inch of the city, mental snapshots at every corner. I’ll spend a day exploring the breathtaking churches, mouth-watering food markets or spellbinding museums. I’ll sit in a cafe and write.
I’d never do that back home.
I’m becoming something new. I like it.
Sure, I still get those moments where I crave something, someone, more. A good friend of mine summed it up well; the difference between being lonely and alone. I could go and eat a three course meal on my Jack Jones and feel great, yet in a house of five people I’ve never felt so lonely. It’s bizarre… but it’s something I need to change.
I’d never underestimate the importance of a strong social circle; something I’d like to think is already growing for me over here. And I’d never say no to an evening with friends. I’m not that person, no.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think I’m finding it… happiness without the help of anyone else. Inner peace, self-love… I don’t know. But I’m getting there. Whatever it is, I’m really, really getting there.
And that’s the best gift Florence could give me.