There’s just something about going into a city, alone. Being surrounded by so many people on all sides of you, and you’re just another face in the crowd. You know none of them, just that you’ll more than likely spot a familiar face in your dreams. You don’t go out past a certain hour in the dark; you cook and grocery shop for one (that in itself has been its own thing) and eat your meals in silence as you read a book or watch another episode of Friends or Law & Order. You can let the loneliness engulf you, or you can take joy in it as you explore all the places around you, and the parts of you you never remembered existed. 

And I think that’s what I’m learning most. I’ve been surrounded by friendly faces my whole life, and it’s not hard for me to make “friends” wherever I go. But there’s also a form of capability and strength that I’ve learned: emotionally and mentally and spiritually. 

So there it is. Being totally alone isn’t my favorite thing ever, and I don’t think it ever will be (fellow explorers are a must). Quality time is my love language, and it speaks to me through being present. But right now I’ve learned and grown more than I think even I’ve realized. And here, at this very precious moment, it’s a gift.