Sitting in my room alone again. All right, I won’t try to come off as a whiny girl just because I’m alone on a Saturday evening. The point is, I’ll still be alone tomorrow and on other days.
I’ve been living like many college students have done – in the big city and far away from their homes and the warmth of their families. However, people normally have roommates, a relative or two, or even old friends to keep them company.
Granted, I do have one roommate here in my new dormitory (two supposedly, but Isa hardly shows up). Though at the moment, she’s in her home province celebrating her uncle’s wedding.
I won’t say I’m a loner, but college and my own personality haven’t given me an opportunity to have good friends – the kind of friends whose place you stay over or hang out with with after class. The kind of friends you take pictures with in parties and post of Facebook and laugh at the silly moments. The kind of friends you schedule movie dates and have are at ease with.
But then, that sort of definition is biased. To be honest, I don’t have that sort of circle simply because of my personality and habits. I’m the type of person who talks to people but prefer to stay at home at the end of the day.
That being said, I certainly cannot blame anyone if I’m feeling very alone on a Saturday evening. It’s just that solitude does a lot of weird things to people. Like make them feel alone and powerless.
The funny part is, I’ve been living this sort of lifestyle for the past year already. The only time I’m not alone is when I’m at school or with my boyfriend. Whenever I’m back in my room, I pretty much spend the hours by myself. Cook, eat, watch TV, and surf the Internet by myself. I study and cram and cuss by myself. When I’m busy I don’t notice my sheer solitude. At times like these, however, I do. And it’s painfully tangible.
The best I can do is move.
