Thomas

We may not need others to cause our happiness,
but we sure do need each other to share our joys.

Two months ago, I met a man in his late thirties that is intrigued by what I have to say about my life and how I view life in general. He has as sort of strangely blunt sort of force about happiness. Almost argumentatively, he told me that he, for the first time in his life, he was happy. I wonder if he was trying to convince himself ....

After getting to know him better, I am starting to understand what he meant by "happy." He meant that he had never been so content. For the first time, he found a plateau between his extreme ups and downs. Because he cherishes his relative calm, he has closed the doors to which others can gain access to sharing who he is. He has claimed his universe -- his and his alone.

In his life, I, a brief friend of two months, can easily be replaced ... by utter nothingness. Though he likes my company, he prefers the stillness of solitude. He believes that solitude is the only connection that has no strings attached -- quite an oxymoron. As if his universe has too little space, during those times when he doesn't need company, my presence became a nuisance to be ousted, to be done away with.

I suppose there are those that find comfort in being alone. After all, they must have been hurt so bad in the past to become reclusive. I hope that it brings them happiness ... because if isolation doesn't bring them the ultimate "prize," then isn't it too high of a price to pay just to exist?