Life Without Witness, Isn’t

Solitude is seductive.

It’s easier because we don’t have to think about
anyone else. It’s cheaper because we don’t have to listen to anyone
else. And it’s faster because we don’t have to wait for
anyone else.

So we retreat. We go it alone instead of sharing
the journey. We lock ourselves in our own little world and rejoice in the
ability to do whatever we want, whenever we want.

Why bother
calling a friend to meet up for a drink when we could go see a movie by
ourselves? Why schlep our laptop to the coffee shop when we could work out of
the house in our pajamas?

But then, about two hours later, when the euphoria
of aloneness wears off, the danger of prolonged isolation settles in. The
loneliness washes over us. And we realize that solitude, while often romantic
and frequently useful, is rarely rewarding.

We realize that happiness without someone to share
it with, isn’t. 

We realize that life without someone to witness it, isn’t.

As human beings, refusing to acknowledge our need
for each other will always leaves us cold, empty and alone. If we want to live meaningful,
nourishing lives, we need to change our pronouns. We need to develop a shared
language of we, our and us––not just a masturbatory monologue of I, my and me.

We need to go out into the world. We need to allow
the craving for togetherness to trump the tendency for antisocialness. And instead
of selfishly secluding ourselves, we need to abandon our egotistical
independence and start sharing the experiences that life provides.

Otherwise we’re just winking in the dark.