I’ve gotten used to going to the movies and restaurants by myself. At first, I wrote “in solitude,” but I felt there was some sense of resignation in those words that I didn’t want to put into them, so I rephrased it to “with myself.” People often ask me at the entrance if there will be two of us, and I say, “I’m alone.” And it doesn’t make me feel anything either way. I enjoy my own company, and I’m not bothered by going to the movies alone, dining at a restaurant alone, buying myself presents, and pampering myself. I won’t lie, though, if I say that this form of existence is not the limit of my dreams, and I definitely want to buy two tickets to the movies and go to a restaurant with someone. But, despite that, I live quite well the way I do now, without “two.” I don’t know if it’s “better” with two. I’ve spent my whole life dreaming of “two” (sometimes even “three” – joke), living with those dreams. I couldn’t even imagine that there might be no “two,” and that “not two” could also be normal. But for most of my life, I was NOT with two. And the amount of pain I’ve endured from that could be enough for several lifetimes.
Everything has changed. I still want “two,” but now my dreams no longer include the second person. In them, there’s me, a beautiful house with windows overlooking the ocean, some interesting work that I do, writing, creating… I ride along the shore in a small open jeep, my house is full of friends. But there’s no Him. In my dreams, I’m alone. And in my real life, I can no longer imagine a man next to me. Yesterday, I felt this sharply while having marinated lamb at dinner. I sat alone on a little terrace of an Italian restaurant, alone at a small table. People walked by. They were all living their lives… The world passed by, and, in general, it didn’t care about me. Not that I was particularly upset by it, even though I’ve always shown great interest in the world – both in general and in specific people. But I felt a kind of detachment from the world, as if someone had cut the umbilical cord, and I had been born, realizing myself as a separate organism.
I’m not inclined to search for metaphysical meanings in this metaphor. I don’t mean that I feel cut off from the world, or that I’ve grown up. I don’t know what happened and how it will affect my future (or past), I’m just describing my feelings about what’s happening.
Sometimes, I make myself remember what’s going on with me, to stop my inner whining about what’s missing from my life. I live in one of the most beautiful corners of the world. Every day, I see palm trees, and in late October, I wear a light silk dress and sandals. I live in the center of the movie world, and it takes me only 15 minutes to drive to the Pacific Ocean. The world around me is beautiful and pristine, and from my office window, I see the Hollywood sign every day. My work team is cheerful and easy-going, and talented people walk around. My culture is slowly and gently becoming more American, shedding the roughness and “old Russian melancholy,” becoming more elegant, subtle, and polite. Overall, I’m healthy, at least to the degree that I don’t require treatment. Most of my wishes come true, leaving me with things to strive for. Everything is ahead of me, and if we refer to my system of values, if it happens, the most wonderful thing possible in my life awaits me — love, family, children. Everything else – money, fame, success – I’ve already experienced, and that was more than enough for me.
My life is incredibly precious and beautiful. I’ll be happy if what I currently consider “the most beautiful” happens. I know that “not being alone” has many advantages, but also one big disadvantage – NOT being alone. So, the most wonderful thing a person can do who is striving not to be alone is to BE ALONE – and enjoy it as much as possible, while they still have the opportunity.