Living alone for the first time in four years has been a relatively interesting experience. It has been a unique exercise in being alone with myself, but also in feeling lonely.

A lot of my single friends find it terrible to cook for themselves. I, for some reason love it. They say that they tend to find the process of cooking for one to feel isolating. I think this goes back to the idea that meals are meant to typically be enjoyed by others. I, however, enjoy eating solo just as much as I do with others. I love combining ingredients and prepping food for the week. I don’t share the same isolating feelings.

However, that’s not to say there aren’t tasks that I realized we’re incredibly lonely. Building furniture, and I mean big, heavy furniture, is for me what triggered that feeling for me. The thought of building something to be used, for a long time, and building that alone – that’s an isolating feeling. 

I don’t quite know what that means, but I posit that it has something to do with the idea of building something. Building something that requires time and effort, and will yield retained value over a prolonged time. Doing that alone is what I seem to carry with importance.