The Down Side of Simplifying

I have been thinking about the essential irony of loneliness.  Loneliness -- true soul-encasing black hole loneliness -- can't be felt alone.  It requires other people, either immediately present or so recently left that chair seats are still warm.  

I've removed some distractions from my life lately, so I am noticing more clearly how I am doing.  For the most part, how I am doing is amazing.  I feel stronger in my work and in my still-emerging self.  I can identify the things that make me happy, and I do them.  I am finally starting to master walking shimmies on the down.  

The side effect, though, is that I also notice the truth of when I am not amazing.  And here is where I am thinking more about loneliness.  I am feeling it -- not more often, but unmuffled.  It is clear, unclouded by random hookups or too many POF messages.  I notice it most in the seconds after I part from a friend, having enjoyed a good conversation, a fun show, a meal together.  I know in these moments, with the clarity of June sunshine, that I am now alone.  That weight sits on me, purring.

With this realization, I see that I have made another loop around this spiral track which is my Life After.  I am back at the start point, sort of.  On the same horizontal plane, but maybe shifted a little bit vertically.  Even as I chafe under the weight, I realize how much freer I am now.  I am no longer compelled to create distractions in order to manage feeling lonely.  I have the well of things which make me happy, and I can tap into those things.  Running, dancing, time outside, writing.  Back on the spiral track, lapping myself and leveling up.  

When I was a teenager, I had such bad menstrual cramps that I would pass out if I didn't take ibuprofen before and during my cycle.  As I got older, they gradually eased, but I still took ibuprofen, at least for a day or two.  A few months ago, I decided to try a cycle without it.  It was uncomfortable, intrusive, but not unbearable.  I got through one month, and another, and another.  It's not so much that the pain diminished, but more that I was better able to cope and function.  I think this will also happen with loneliness.  It won't ever go completely away -- I am a loving human, after all -- but I will continue to be better able to cope and function.