…and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever it want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?

Charles Bukowski

Twenty years ago, I moved into a single bedroom apartment in a new city that would become my home.

Before that, I grew up in a busy household with three siblings, two parents and a revolving door of family/guests. There were always people around and having any form of privacy was laughable.

In the year before the move, I travelled across Canada with nine other people where things like privacy and personal space were merely words—much like theoretical concepts in physics. Possible to understand, but never likely to observe it personally.

Moving into a single bedroom should have felt like the freedom I had always longed for and bask in every moment I was there. As an introvert, it’s the dream, right?

Except… I was truly alone.

No friends.
No contacts.
No residence floor of similar people in my position to connect with upon my arrival.

Nobody.

The first two weeks were spent doing a lot of walking and reflecting. A lot of sitting on my balcony and listening to the city. A lot more walking.

Yes, I was incredibly free… but also incredibly lonely.

This was also a time when social networks and data plans (even cell phones) weren’t around to distract an individual from their circumstances. You had to live with it.

Yet, even as I longed for the freedom and silence of having my own space, and kept living in single bedroom apartments, I found myself taking every opportunity to be with people. Eventually I would connect with people, grow my social circle and start my own family.

And even though I enjoyed the freedom of being alone, and even though I long for moments of solitude now, the loneliness that comes with it isn’t worth it.

It’s only through other people that we bring out the best of each other.