Quarter of a century

A thought occurred to me as I was driving home from work the other day.

I think. Or maybe it was when I found myself alone in my apartment. Or maybe it was on a solo lunch break in the middle of the week.

Who knows.

The thought was, "Adulthood means loneliness."

It was one of those organic thoughts that springs from somewhere deep and unfounded that never dawned on you before and isn't from a book or movie or song you heard. Unknown, unrelated molecules from your brain or heart or arms or legs smashed together and through some chemical reaction produced this thought.

And it can't be ignored.

At first I tried to argue against it. That's just not true. As an adult (chronologically speaking), I find myself with a close group of friends that I love and that love me despite, well, me. A mother who is unendingly supportive and who I speak to everyday and who would quite literally do anything on earth to assure my happiness. A boyfriend who is there for me in every sense of the word, always looking to know me in a new way even though we've known each other for two years and have lived together for fourteen months. I have a flurry of acquaintances I can have a pleasant lunch or casual drink with after work and talk about sports and television and other light topics. None of this adds up to someone who is lonely.

But I am.

It's been creeping up on me for some time now and I've this past week identified it. For better or worse.

Perhaps I am using the wrong word. It's possible I should be saying self-reliant or independent or something. Lonely has a horrible connotation, obviously. It can never be a positive emotion or state of mind, no matter the context. And maybe it isn't true loneliness, but this new found dependency on myself and only myself to take care of me that just...feels like it. It could be just my still somewhat immature mind unable to convert the childish need to be taken care of into my aging body's status as an "able-bodied adult" and once I shake loose the last trappings of childhood and become truly comfortable as a grown-up I will be fine.

Or...maybe adulthood is loneliness. And truly being an adult means accepting it and moving on.

Because as much as your support system may be there, in the end it's just you to take care of you, to calm yourself down or lift your spirits or pay the goddamned bills or make decisions about your future or figure out what will make you happy or keep yourself from being overwhelmed by it all when you find yourself alone.

In one light it's empowering. In another, it's awfully, awfully lonely.

Happy 25th birthday.