No, actually. What about last night, then? Not then, either. Oh.... The night before no-one saw you eating on your own. Ah, I had dinner with a friend that evening. Phew! Because the night before that, and the three previous ones, you were on your own, at different places. Well, yes, that's what happened. I'd hate to eat on my own. We thought about asking you to join us. Have some company. I'm very glad you didn't - that would have felt patronising. But at least you'd have had people to talk to. I didn't want people to talk to. Especially strangers. But you were alone with your THOUGHTS. Yes, it was great. Really? REALLY....
Hmm. I've just been on holiday for a week, partly with and partly without friends. The 'with' part has taken place during the day when I've skiied with my son and his friends and the family of one of those friends. The 'without' part has included the evenings and nights, when I've stayed in separate accommodation. It's been good. The right mix of company and time toute seule. And yet, I've found myself wondering every time I've sat at the breakfast table on my own or the dinner one, if those around me, couples, families, have pitied me, thinking that this is the sum total of my life. Just me. At times I've succumbed to the temptation to check my mobile phone, even send a text - in the hope of receiving one, just to convey to or reassure those around me, cacooned by their loved ones, that I too have connections, people close enough to text me. If I was surrounded by other people 'on their own', this need wouldn't exist.
There have been times in the past when I've ended up booking a holiday on my own, assuming that others will be joining, and found out that this wasn't the case. In such times, an invitation to join someone else's table, provided it wasn't introduced with the sentence 'We felt so sorry for you/You looked so lonely' has been welcome. Life's all about balance - working out how much time we wish/need to spend with others, how much we want to be on our own. We all vary. This is the third skiing holiday my son and I have been on with these friends, and each time I've stayed in a B&B, because the chalet he's in isn't big enough to accommodate me, too. I've always been glad about that. Glad to have the evenings to myself.
Of course I might feel differently if I wasn't returning to a loving partner. My day to day, week to week, year to year, life is with him and our son, and that's our norm. But it's also pleasant to have the occasional spell where it's just me.
If people think that's strange - well, so what? We are all different.
Tonight I forgot to take my mobile phone with me - that wondrous gadget that keeps us in touch with the people in our lives. I did take a book about the art of writing short stories. I was almost too tired to read it, however.
Self-containedly yours
Jane
Hear hear! I love spying solo diners when out. Especially if I'm with someone. As a recovering loner, it pleases me to spot contented tables-for-one, as that was me for about five years (not voluntarily, mind you). Also, thanks for your commiseration re the New Writers' Awards . . . onward, as David Bishop says. The best way to go.
ReplyDeleteThanks M.J. Nicholls. I, too, was sickened by being unsuccessful. For once, I'd been confident enough to believe I might be accepted on the scheme. There's something about not even being good enough to be taken on by an organisation to make you better. Still, as you say, onward is the only direction. I didn't know they'd add the unsuccessful short listed applicants. It would have been good to know that I wasn't in the bottom eight, or even the bottom one.
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