loneliness

Moving to a new city in a foreign country without knowing anyone is harder than I thought it would be. I have good days and bad days, good weeks and bad weeks. I feel lonely a lot. Sometimes it´s the kind of loneliness that makes me appreciate how un-lonely my life at home is; sometimes it´s the kind of loneliness that makes me feel really sorry for myself, curled into a ball on my bed; sometimes it´s the kind of loneliness that sits quietly behind other emotions, a dim ache that is mostly forgotten.

I´ve been trying to decide how much I like Buenos Aires, and have been feeling like I don´t appreciate it as much as I should, as much as I had hoped I would. But after some thought I realized that I really like the city, and love all it has to offer, but am simply disappointed that I don´t have a network of friends to go out and enjoy it with. Don´t get me wrong, it´s not as if I´ve been sitting home alone every night - I´ve been going out with various groups, people I´ve met, friends I´ve made. But most English-speakers that I´ve met are only here for a short time, and making Argentine friends takes a lot of time and energy. The language barrier, as hard as I´m working to break it down, doesn´t make it any easier.

So I end up spending a lot of time alone, exploring the city. Watching as friends and families and couples eat leisurely lunches in Sunday afternoon sunshine, smiling and laughing, feeding their dogs ice cream cones under tables, cooing at babies in strollers, telling stories, sitting in a silence that can only exist in the company of those who know you well. And as I wander, I´m torn - watching all these happy people spend time with those they love makes me feel so full and so empty at the same time. I´m filled with happiness, knowing that I too have that waiting for me back home. But it also makes me feel a little hollow, having it be so far away.

I find my mind wandering into the territory of the What Ifs. Would it be different if I was here with a friend? Andy? My family? Would I feel differently if I was younger? Older? If I was here for a shorter amount of time? A longer amount? Silly questions, since I´m here, now, at this age and at this time in my life, for this amount of time. But still. What if?

I also recognize that the Andy Factor makes the biggest contribution to my loneliness, which I expected and tried to prepare myself for. But I´ve discovered that the feeling of loss that accompanies being away from your best friend, the person you love most, the one you´re used to seeing every day, isn´t something you can ever fully understand until you feel it in your bones. It hurts more than you think it might.

Most days I can focus on all the positives - the self-growth, the exploration, the Spanish skills, the time away to think, the clarity that comes with being removed from routine - and the strength I get from knowing this experience is making me stronger chases the loneliness away. Those are the Good Days. But then there are the days when I feel stripped down and raw with emotion and all that is left is the reality that I miss home, more than I ever have before. Those days are the Bad Days.

But the Bad Days pass, as do the Good Days. I smile and laugh and cry. I feel lost and energized and sure and unsure. I move through the oh-so-hards and the oh-so-greats and life happens all around me. I take in as much as I can, and I try to make the most of my time here. I recognize that I´m fortunate to have a life worth missing, and that I´m also fortunate to be here. I know that I will look back on all of this as such an important time in my life, even if that knowledge can be clouded by loneliness at times.

It´s all part of being human, of being me, of learning and living and loving. I consider myself lucky to have reasons to feel so deeply, because it is in those deep crevices of sadness and those sunny peaks of happiness that I know I am truly alive.