That fateful morning when the thought occured to me.

When being alone, is the only emotion we feel lacking people’s companionship?

This question came to my mind one morning while sitting in my car after a long misty drive to school. The lampposts glowed like pale fireflies, and the gray clouds churned, making me ponder the day’s weather.

I scrolled mindlessly through numerous social media accounts, watching as people I considered close friends celebrated at pool parties, met at coffee shops, and did everything together. Despite whether it was depression or unwillingness to do anything, I was never there. 

I am not calling these friends selfish, nor am I saying I wish I had been invited. In reality, everyone I know is entitled to a life of their choosing, and if that doesn’t include me, then that’s just fine. 

It’s a melancholy feeling to know that the people close to me are having fun without me, which begs the question, am I sad without them?

As an introvert, most of my weekends consist of sleeping in, working, and spending time with my parents rather than acquaintances. So I rarely ever think of quality time being spent with a friend, and quite frankly, I get tired of being a social butterfly.

School is the time to be social, like during class time and during passing time in the hallways. The one friend I share lunch with and I spend most of the period talking about topics and the other bit on our phones or reading.

I don’t dread the period, in fact, I look forward to eating and having a moment where I don’t have to worry about being productive. Most students dread not being able to sit and horse around with friends, but I have little preference when I enter the cafeteria. 

But, I have learned that I’m most productive when my tasks are done alone. My projects for grades always seem to perform better when I work on my own. When I work by myself, the job is organized to my liking making me both proficient and on task. Aside from school, there’s driving. On the road, my driving is best when I have only my bag in the passenger seat. 

Additionally, I’ve also found that the amount of drama and problems that come with a friend group very rarely involve me, besides the times I place myself in the middle to defuse the situation. However, despite how enjoyable being a ‘lone wolf’ sounds, I still feel jealous when I see others having fun times without me. It’s almost as if I’ve never crossed their minds when events are planned.

A feeling of deep sorrow overcomes me because sometimes I think I did something wrong or made them think I would say no almost immediately. Although I am extremely guilty of making up excuses, it’s because I spend the whole day working and having time for myself. 

This habit backfires when I make others realize I very rarely want to go out. But should I be called selfish for wanting to take time to recharge over being with people I care about? With my weekends filled with five to eight-hour shifts, it’s hard to want to dig into my sleep schedule just to joke around in a parking lot with slushies. 

People who know me know I digress, whether I intend to or not, and know how protective I am of my free time, and therefore never think to invite me. But does that make me sad? Yes, because it tells me many don’t have a common courtesy to at least offer. 

In spite of all of this, being alone has taught me to mature, and flourish in my own image. Spending it with myself allows for exploration of what I love and want to do. If I hadn’t typed during the day, would I have even been interested in journalism in the first place? 

Being alone does not mean a person is depressed and lacks a social circle, nor does it mean those who exist in this group don’t have a life outside it. All I’m saying is that I want an invitation. Just know that if I refuse, don’t feel hurt, because it probably has nothing to do with you and instead with my pursuit of happiness.