It has been way over two months since I moved to the small country of Japan. One could say that after a month or so you get used to your new life and fall into a routine. This is not necessarily true in my case. As the days turn into weeks I have fallen into a routine that brings serenity into my day to day life. But I’m not exactly used it.
I wake up daily at eight in the morning. I make breakfast. I wash my face and do the morning necessities. I speak to my parents on the phone while eating, getting dressed and all the jazz. Then I go to school, go to the gym or my teaching job, return to the apartment and study. Occasionally I stray from this routine and find something to do after my classes end.
The thing about me is that I have learned that living alone is not as fun as I imaged. I always pictured this perfect image of my life and how everything would be if I was alone in my own place. Oh, how wrong I was. While I did image this in the states rather than in Japan. The feeling is the same though….I suppose.
I am no longer lonely. I have made a handful of friends whom I can turn to so I can spend a day with the company.
I am still alone.
And it is not something I find comfort in. Yes, there are wonderful sides to living by yourself. For starters, I can drink out of the jug without guilt. There are moments I feel guilty for drinking water out of my jug and then I remember…I’m not sharing with anyone…and then I remember that I am alone.
Sure, I can strip my pants off the minute I step through the door, but I’m not exactly that type of person.
I could turn up my music, rock out and dance, but I’m mindful of my neighbors.
I can cook whatever I want, whenever I want. Then I remember there is never food ready for me unless I make it myself.
I had drawn this beautiful image full of freedom and excitement. And the image was true on the freedom and excitement. The beauty of it is not all there.
It’s is funny, because introverts are known for enjoying solitude and I find that a complete lie. Yes, I like solitude, but only when I need to unwind and need personal space. Other than that, I hate solitude. Solitude sucks.
In moments like these, I ask, “Would dorming be better than having my own place?” Then I remember, that I’d be sharing space with over 25 people and I push those thoughts away. Sharing is caring, but there is only so much sharing I can do before I want to push someone into a bush.
Living alone truly has been an adventure in itself. I have grown to appreciate my parents a lot more, and everything they do to keep the home environment homely. (Also, constantly having to do dishes sucks. No one to share the chore with. )
I’d say everyone needs the experience of living somewhere without their parents. But I recommend not to do it alone unless you really want to. Like really really want to.
I’m in a new place, and alone. But I am trying to accept that this an experience that is helping my comfort zone grow. Experiences I need to travel through. Being alone does not always mean being lonely, and that is what I am trying to achieve. I am no longer as lonely, but being alone was not all that it was cut out to be.
I will continue moving forward because the world is beautiful and only those willing to take the necessary steps are able to truly see it.