standing alone

There the those they call the monophobes. You know, the people that cannot stand being alone. They won’t eat by themselves, they can’t shop by themselves, they don’t like being left alone in the house. They detest attending functions alone and tend to drag a friend along with them when the occasion permits. When all else fails, they are perpetually on the phone when left to mind themselves for a while. And, of course, heaven forbid they are stranded without anything to do on a Saturday night!

Then, you have the mono-okayers.  Those that crave- and even thrive- being by themselves. They prefer sitting quietly in the corner reading by themselves, they get more done working alone, they are more productive shopping solo and are perfectly at ease having to attend a function on their own. They mostly figure they’d make small talk with the next bloke- who might also be there alone; or at worse, they could sit, nurse a drink, amused at the social going-ons, observing what would surely be the social mating game.

This girl happens to fall into the latter criteria. When she used to work in a bigger, more crowded organization, she’d sneak out for solo lunches. A situation made worse given she spent hours each day in front of hundreds of people. When she ran The Company, she’d hide in the downstairs study by herself, choosing to do most of her work there. She does far too much damage on her plastics when she shops by herself and has been known to wile the hours away in her own company. In fact, The Mother used to have to come and forcibly drag her out of her room which became her refuge in a house of seven boisterous people and five exuberant dogs.

And even as she writes this, holed up in the corner of The Boy’s office as they each try to finish up their ends of an impending project they are partnering on (its purely for fun, though its part business too), she sits alone. Quiet. Almost silent; save for the printers incessant whirl echoing the palpablity of her thoughts. There is the clakering of The Boy packing stuff up and walking in and out of their current shared space, but she chooses to sit; almost without moving (cross legged in the swivel chair), letting the exploding rush of project dates, the flurry of deadlines and the annoying hustle of a mounting to do list fade into the background.

As she chooses, right at this moment, to stand alone.

Just for a while.