Solitude

"There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone"

I hear you Sylvia Plath.

Two years ago I found myself coming to the end of an era - the end of five years at boarding school where privacy was a rare and valued concept. For five years, the only time I could ever truly be alone was sitting in a toilet cubicle at midnight. Having shared a boarding house with around sixty girls and a dorm with ten girls, I came to appreciate any time I could spend alone where I could sing to myself, think out loud and dance like I'm Beyoncé. I couldn't be alone when showering, brushing my teeth or getting changed and it was as a result of this that I became conscious of every aspect of my daily routine. I was conscious of the way I spat toothpaste into the sink and I perfected the art of putting on underwear without revealing myself.
I value my solitude. I value lying in bed at night and not altering the rhythm of my breath so I don't inhale or exhale in time with my inmates. I value the lack of a uniform. I value not waking up to Katy Perry shouting me down each morning. I don't have to wake up at all. Nothing can interrupt my dreams if I please.
Solitude is vital to me. My thoughts are no longer interrupted by the whine of hair dryers in the morning or bitchy comments in the middle of the night. I can sleep without the sound of snoring mocking my exhaustion. I can choose who I take in to my bedroom. I can listen to silence instead of unintentionally eavesdropping on homesick phone calls to parents. I don't have to feel embarrassed about the posters I pin up on my wall or pyjamas I wear.
It is in the silence and privacy of my bedroom that I am most creative. I can write down my thoughts. I can write poetry. I can express my anger through wild interpretive dance if I please.
It's not just my bedroom where I find solitude. Walking down an empty street, I can appreciate my surroundings. I can sit on a bench and people watch. I can sit on a bus and stare out the window, listen to music and dwell in my solitude. It's a strange kind of enjoyable loneliness when I'm surrounded by others, like feeling entirely alone at a Gatsby-size party.

'And I like large parties, They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy'

-The Great Gatsby

Solitude sometimes creeps up on you in a crowded room but ultimately you don't have to be lonely. Your own company is often just as awesome as someone else's.