An Ode to Roommates and Solitude

Last summer my longtime roommate told me that he was planning on taking the plunge with his girlfriend and getting an apartment together.  I mentally prepared myself from that point forward for my baby bird to spread his wings and fly.  However, circumstances didn’t lend themselves to the move happening immediately and Dan and I continued our cohabitation, happily splitting bills, the dishes, and trash.  I put the concept of losing a roommate on the backburner and lived my life to the fullest; skydiving, bull fighting, and curling to my heart’s content.  A few weeks after that, the topic was breached yet again.  This time it was a firm reality and the date was set.  Dan would be moving out at the end of November.

A few weeks after that, while eating some of the best chicken wings the Northwestern Pennsylvania region has to offer, I mentioned how, for the first time in my life, I would be living completely independent of a roommate.  I was going rogue.

Sarah Palin Rogue

My life from that day forward.

In the middle of one of his chicken wings, my brother pointed out that I just turned 30.

It was odd thinking of that; three decades of life.  The oddity was highlighted by a thought that popped into my head as well.  By the time my dad was my age, he already had three kids.

I enjoy my freedom too much to hamstring my lifestyle with the burden of children at the moment.  However, one thing I’ve learned about myself since my roommate’s departure is that I enjoy cohabitating.  I’m really not too fond of living alone. Growing up with brothers, I’ve found that having someone close to me is a part of my personality.   I grew up accustomed to having someone to watch TV with, play video games, or go outside and do something.  And really, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a tight group of friends and I’ve always kept them close to me, through proximity or communication, if they happened to live at a distance.

Now I know that causation doesn’t necessarily mean correlation, but over the last few months, I’ve noticed a change in my personality.  I don’t know if anyone else has because I haven’t bothered to ask, but I feel that since living on my own, I’ve become much quieter and way more introspective.  This may or may not be a bad thing.  I guess it’s probably good to be more self aware and evaluate one’s life in solitude for a period of time, a la Henry David Thoreau.

Hopefully I don’t contract tuberculosis and die, however, because no one will be here to help.

So on with life I will go, learning how to navigate the waters of bachelorhood in solitude.

Agere sequitur credere.


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