Loneliness

There's a certain type of loneliness you experience when you’ve been single for a long time. It’s  not the same as being alone; it’s not isolation. You have your friends and your family that care about you, but this isn't the cure. There’s a longing that comes out to haunt you, it sits dormant somewhere amongst all the complexities of your mind. It can be repressed, of course, but it finds you. It comes along suddenly. Unexpectedly, there’s a little pang felt at the bottom of your chest that jumps out when you feel at a low point. This can be sparked in a multitude of ways; couples posting pictures of a proposal, two twenty-year olds sitting down for a loving coffee date when you’re on your own with nothing but a novel for company. It’s listening to all your friends talk about stories of their love lives; ranging from the heart-warming intricacies that hold together a long-term relationship to the short exhilaration of a fling. Yet there you are, left with nothing to say. It feels like there’s a whole part of the world you’re not experiencing; a brand-new song that everyone’s hearing, but you can’t find it anywhere. You’re desperately trying to figure out what the formula is, how people are managing to experience romantic love in a way that seems so effortless, and every time you come to the most hard-hitting conclusion of all: there isn’t one. 

The feeling of being completely isolated from relationships is not new to me, I have been single for most of my life. This specific loneliness I’m referring to is not the same as being unable to enjoy your own company, in fact, I’d argue it’s almost the opposite. It’s when you’ve appreciated yourself for so long, you begin to desire the reassurance that someone else could do the same. It’s the urge of wanting to cook a meal for two rather than one, or to enjoy a new series with another person, not just yourself. This is not to say you’re without love, but it is to crave a certain type that you’re not used to. After all, we crave what we cannot have. It’s not the same as longing for a new phone, coat or satin pillow for your bed that you cannot get your hands on. These things are all material, trends will come and go, you will find replacements. You cannot curate romantic love out of nothing, it does not come to you just because you feel worthy of it. It doesn’t matter if you’d be the best partner in the entire world, that doesn’t mean that another person will suddenly appear through sheer magic. 

I was in a card shop earlier this week and I found myself – almost tauntingly – in the Valentine’s day section. There was a card so perfect that I couldn’t leave it behind. I told myself that I would keep it stored away until the next time I ever need it; whether that be in two years, five or however many it takes. That is what you do when you’re a hopeless romantic, and that’s perfectly okay. Anyone who has felt this specific loneliness before, we are in solidarity. It is not shameful to admit that sometimes we long for romantic love. Whenever it hits you, search for the other types of love that are existing around you, weaving themselves into everyday life. Find it in the love you have when you’re at a loud pub laughing with all your friends, or when you’re walking through the park with your dog excitedly bounding ahead, or when you’re dancing along to your favourite Spotify playlist in your bedroom. Life is not a curated story where all the good parts come at once, so remember to appreciate all the worthy elements you have already. These will keep you feeling whole whenever the loneliness hits.

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Obsessed with love?

Why am I so mesmerised by love? I’m not in love, at least not in a romantic way; yet I spend most of my evenings listening to Billie Holiday sing about falling in love, being in it, and then falling back out. My two favourite films are about two people falling for one another, spending at least half the plot trying to convince themselves they surely haven’t, but then confessing that they have in the final ten minutes. I’ve spent the majority of my long, gruelling journey’s back and forth Wales and England accompanied by Dolly Alderton’s Love Stories podcast; listening intently as her guests describe falling in love for the first time. Most of my personal writing that I don’t share is about love; how it hurts, how it’s pointless, why it’s the best sensation in the world and why I wish I had no idea what it was. Then I circle back to ‘maybe I don’t know what it is’ because I’m not in it.

One of my favourite conversations to overhear is two people having their first date. It’s one of those moments you couldn't possibly tune out, no matter how much of an imposter you feel. Some of them are awkward, uncomfortable and involve a lot of jarred conversations about how much someone loves Amsterdam or saying things like ‘Oh, I only drink proper coffee’ or ‘Love Island is single-handedly ruining our generation’. Others seem effortless, like the two people have been best friends their entire lives.  That’s the type of first date hopeless romantics like me dream of. That’s why I always find myself saying yes to dates and then cancelling them a few days later, because I don’t think I could handle a string of consecutively bad ones, I would blame myself. I’d end up convincing myself it was because I was boring, or not pretty enough, or because I offended them in some way. First dates terrify me a little bit because I never know how much of myself to give. Do I tell them that sometimes I cry when listening to Bonnie Tyler, that my baking isn’t actually that good and that I love spending countless hours watching weird Youtube videos? Or do I say things like ‘yeah, I love theatre and red wine. Have you been to Copenhagen? You should go to Copenhagen! What’s your favourite play, here’s a list of my favourite novels’. Do they want a highlights reel or do they want the person that I actually am? 

Some of the best dates I’ve ever had are where I’ve felt completely myself. A weird thing to say, considering I can only really every be me, and it’s not like I have the ability to transform into another person. But sometimes it feels like putting on a mask, one that only has all my best parts. Although, that will never allow for love to be catalysed; at least not for me. One of my fears is someone falling in love with an imagined version of me, something I will never be able to uphold. I am not perfect, and I shouldn’t be expected to be. I get upset when things are hurtful, I spend the majority of my life being anxious and sometimes my hair is so messy that it looks like I’ve been electrocuted. I’m imperfect; that’s the only way we really can be, it’s the beauty and the curse of being human.

This is one of the reasons I value the love you gain from family and friendship so deeply. The people in your life who care about you sincerely have seen you at your worst, most vulnerable times in your life, and they have not failed to love you. They have seen you cry so hard that your entire face goes red, they have been there to make you cups of tea when it feels like the world is falling apart, and they will sit and talk to you about the same problem over and over again -giving the exact same advice - just because they know it makes you feel better.

One of my close friends has been having a tough time with romantic love lately, so I sent her a card and quoted one my favourite pieces of writing I’ve read from Dolly Alderton:

“There’s the love you have with family members, the love that you have for a place that you visit, or the road that you live on, or the love that you have for every day habits, and the love that you have for your partner, and the love that you have for yourself. You should fill your life with lots of different love.”

The reason why I listen to Billie Holiday every day, watch When Harry met Sally too often and listen to people discuss stories of falling for someone else is because these are habits that allow me to experience love. In a way, I am in love with these habits. Love is not one singular person, it is found in a multitude of places; so keep falling in love every day. People in relationships are not the only ones who can create habits of love, you can do it with yourself. And when the time comes, maybe you’ll say yes to a date without cancelling, and you can be your true self. What have you got to lose? Romantic love is not the be all and end all; it is merely a beautiful possibility.

Elle

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