December 15, 2000
You May Still Be Lonely, But You're Not Alone
I think I almost made my mom cry last night. We were sitting in the living room, just talking about our respective days. With the weather being as bad as it's been the past few nights, I usually call home if I'm going to be late. Last night I was late, not because the roads were bad, but because I was hanging around at work talking to a few coworkers. So I mentioned, "Well, I almost called but decided I didn't really need to..." Mom agreed, saying that since the roads were clear she wasn't worried. I stopped and said, "You know, it's kind of nice to have someone around to worry if I'm going to be late. It's nice to come home to a house that isn't empty." Her eyes got a little wider and a little shinier, and she got quiet for a few minutes.
I don't know, I think it was because she felt bad for the time I lived alone. I know it bothers her sometimes, and she worries about the usual things moms worry about -- as she puts it, "I just want to see you settled down." I think part of "settled down" means being married again and having kids, but having watched me go through one divorce, my mom is definitely not pushing marriage at me for marriage's sake. But she worries.
At the risk of sounding sadistic, that feels really good sometimes. It means that I'm loved. It's not that I don't know that, and it's not like there's nobody else in the world that loves me besides my mother. What I'm starting to realize, though, is how very disconnected and detached I was getting from the world as a whole, living alone. I think I first realized it when I saw Rent last month. Part of the reason I was so excited about it was that I felt very much part of a community during the show and afterwards, when I started emailing different people who follow the tour around. I felt silly admitting that, but it was true.
Once I admitted that lack, that feeling of being detached, I started to see it in other aspects of my life. Living alone, there were times when I could go days and days at a time without ever speaking a truly personal word to anyone. All of my personal communication took place online. I'm forced to admit, as much of a 'net junkie as I am, it's just not the same. Moving in with my folks has been good for me in that respect. By spending more time around people at home, I'm finding that I'm more talkative with my coworkers, so I'm getting more involved in what's going on around here.
I'm getting... well... I'm just getting more involved in life in general. I hadn't realized how deeply self-involved I'd become -- and not in a good way. I'd become so focused on my inner landscape and the little area around my computer desk that I sort of forgot there was a whole world out there. I forgot that regular contact with real human beings, real contact, not just like a cashier at a store or a gas station, is a good thing. That it's something I need, just like everyone else.
In other words, I'd become a hermit. And in all honesty, I wasn't very happy that way. Did I mention it's been a very good two weeks so far?
(For the curious, the title is a reference to one of my most favorite Tom Smith songs ever, "PQR".)
Posted by Lisa at December 15, 2000 03:18 PM
