Being alone together.

Hey pretty one. How’s your week been? If it’s been lovely, come get ice cream with me and tell me all about it. If it’s been awful, let’s go stargazing and tell the night sky what’s on our minds. If it’s been the same old week, tell me your worst joke next time you see me. I’m serious. It has to be extra awful. It better be so bad that I crack a smile after expressing profound disappointment.

This entry is a little thank you to all my introverts. Prepare to be validated in all your desires to be alone but also your can’t-help-but-fancy-someone sentiments. I’m gonna listen to Tim Atlas’ album Together Lonely for the first time while I write this as the title resonates deeply.

I’m almost a year and a half free from my last relationship. While the relationship was deeply problematic for a number of reasons I’ve written about in other entries, it taught me a lot about what I bring to the table, what I don’t, and how I envision myself in a relationship.

I’ve had lots of single time to think. Some questions I often ask myself are: Why did we only do what she wanted? Why was I okay with all my ideas being shut down? What do I want? What don’t I want?

In a late-night, deep conversation with a dear friend about politics, relationships, pancakes versus waffles, and butts, he said his ideal partnership was “being alone together.” I’d never heard the phrase before but it resonated profoundly.

I immediately envisioned the carefree bliss of an introverted love.

Maybe there’s a lot of overlap in their lives, maybe there’s only a little, but there’s enough to enjoy each other’s company. Maybe they can’t put their attraction for each other into words, maybe they can perform whole monologues about it. All they know is they love being alone but also with each other. There’s enough of a spark to say “I’m still a whole person without you, but I like your dumb face and your snoring is tolerable, so let’s journey through life separately but together at the same time. What we don’t share in life aren’t dealbreakers but chances for me to learn more about all that has made you who you are.”

The connection forms through mutual values and adoration of who the other person is without one’s self in the picture. They’re not anchored together by the same hobbies because they likely differ. Neither is pressured to be someone they’re not. Acceptance of imperfection on all ends is followed by peaceful, fulfilling compromise.

Both partners are free to be themselves, watch their own shows, listen to their own music, go to their own events, and fully invest themselves in their own hobbies. Disinterest in each other’s activities and time spent with others isn’t taken as rejection because a deep respect and appreciation for what makes the other happy exist at the foundation. They both love peace and quiet. There are no awkward silences. The absence of conversation doesn’t imply unease or tension. Quiet moments with each other are opportunities for their thoughts to wander however they may, for them to ponder their place in the universe while staring out at the scenery, or for them to admire each other and all that they are.

Instead of clubbing all night, they wake up early for a morning hike.
Instead of some crazy house party hosted by a friend of a friend of a friend they’ve never heard of, they invite a few sweet souls over for wine and cheese.
Instead of catching the rare but super social local event, they read together by the fire.

My envisioned introverted love encourages my partner to continue being who they were before they met me and freely explore new avenues of their existence. Meanwhile, they have the comfort of being loved amidst what changes and what doesn’t.

This Tim Atlas album is pretty good.