to admit that you are alone is a taboo in this world, in this society at least. to say that you are alone labels you as a freak, as an outsider, a loner. something that we are all taught at a young age that it is not good to be. but here i am. and i would like to discuss the subject that everyone else seems to want to avoid.
my junior year of high school was the last time i was truly alone. i remember walking home from the bus stop and thinking about all of the things that i do by myself, like riding the bus, like walking from class to class, like going to youth group, running errands, going shopping, driving to AMIGOS–so many things. and in all honesty, that is one reason I pushed for Iida, or the idea of Iida. I was tired of doing the little things by myself. and so when I knew that Iida was coming, i would walk home from the bus stop with another idea racing laps in my head. the idea, the fact really, that I wasn’t going to have to do the little things alone anymore. Iida was coming. we would walk together, wait for the bus together, wait in the morning before school together, everything. I would not be alone. My heart soared.
But all of that came before I even expected it. I got on the plane to Panama by myself, even though I was with other people. I struggled through the first few days in Panama by myself and then suddenly, so fast I missed it all, Rachael cried and I wasn’t by myself anymore and it would be that way for a long, long time.
I got home from Panama to chaos but I wasn’t alone. At first I didn’t like it–Iida being there all the time. “what!?” you’re exclaiming, knowing us now. but it’s true. I was in reverse culture shock, i missed my Panamanian home, i missed Rachael, my family was struggling with the change my grandpa’s brush with death brought to us all, I didn’t want to share iida with my friends, I was tired of having to explain everything to her and then suddenly out of nowhere and all at the same time, I loved it all. I loved her, i loved explaining things to her, i loved sharing my friends, my life, my culture. she was always there and for a whole year, i didn’t do a single little thing by myself. she was never far from me.
but she left. time took her from me and I cried for 24 straight hours. but even though she was gone, i was not alone. i spent that whole summer at the pool. my job was my constant. i did nothing alone since i was always at the pool and then i was almost there–i was going to college alone wasn’t i? but i didn’t. because beka was there, from the very beginning and through the whole thing. and she came home with me and then iida and jenni were there and then Em and I traveled Europe and then, then after 2 whole years, i had to face it again. the taboo. the pretending to not be alone when somehow I was.
Beka plays volleyball. all of my friends have their own classes, work. i am not alone, i am not lonely but i do the little things by myself again, like going to dinner and then finding someone there, going to walmart, going to this going to that. the little things. the first 2 weeks of it almost broke me. i wasnt use to being alone. and yet, here i am. and i admit it. i go against the taboo because i have had to–am–learning how to do the little things alone again. and you want to know something? its making me stronger.