Summary

The author reflects on the duality of loving both the companionship of others and the solitude of self-reliance, finding freedom and peace in embracing both.

Abstract

In a personal essay set against the backdrop of a Mexican border town, the author contemplates the complex nature of freedom and love. Amidst the city's nocturnal energy, the author finds solace in the quiet ritual of tea and a cigarette, pondering the balance between the desire for human connection and the contentment of being alone. The narrative reveals a journey from a place of numbness to one of emotional awakening, as the author acknowledges the fear of loss and abandonment but ultimately embraces the empowering realization that one can cherish relationships while also enjoying independence. This epiphany is a testament to the author's growth, signifying a shift from living in fear to fully engaging with life's experiences and the spectrum of emotions they entail.

Opinions

The author values the ability to feel emotions deeply, especially after a long period of emotional numbness.
There is a strong appreciation for the autonomy that comes with living alone, which is seen as distinct from loneliness.
The author expresses a love-hate relationship with their current environment, acknowledging its flaws but also finding beauty and inspiration in it.
The essay conveys a sense of liberation from past fears and the embracing of a newfound sense of self-determination.
The author suggests that personal growth involves learning to protect oneself from negative emotions while still being open to experiences and connections.
The narrative implies that happiness, while fleeting, is a tangible and cherished companion in the author's life.

Freedom Means Drinking From the Cup of Love and Loneliness

My life is in my hands, the way it should have always been.

Photo by Oziel Gómez: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-sitting-on-top-of-building-s-edge-1755385/

It’s almost 11 pm, and the city remains wildly awake. I can feel people’s fear in the air as police cars go around trying to put on a show of safety. Such is life in a Mexican border town that’s growing up too fast.

I’m sleepy but have so much to do I know I’ll fight to stay awake until I slump on my chair. So I make a cup of strong tea and grab a cigarette from a package I bought a few weeks ago that I hadn’t opened yet. I know; I shouldn’t smoke.

There’s a light breeze, and humidity floats in the air. I unlock the kitchen door and step outside my apartment to escape the humming of the air conditioner.

I light up my cigarette, and I sip my tea. My mind is a whirlwind, all thoughts shouting at the same time. I try to focus on the work ahead of me.

This will be a long night.

However, I end up thinking of love. After all, that’s the actual concern keeping me up right now.

I’m on the second floor, so I can comfortably admire the tiny piece of land I pay rent for. So many times, I have promised myself I will leave to go to a place with a more benevolent kind of weather. Enduring 110°F summers becomes tiresome.

One day I will leave, yes. I just don’t know when.

But, at the moment, this slice of nightlife belongs to me and my tea and my nasty cigarette. And I love it.

See? I told you I was thinking of love.

I live at the intersection of a curious duality.

I love being close to those I care about. I enjoy being hugged, kissed, made love to, sharing a good laugh, and watching movies while holding hands. All amazing stuff I constantly crave. In fact, right now, as I type these words, I miss it. I miss him.

However, I also like to drink a cup of tea while staring out my window, my apartment in silence because I’m completely alone…but I’m not lonely.

What is this feeling called?

Because the thing is, this does not feel weird. Quite the opposite, it feels like peace, like the beginning of a good life, a brand new journey.

I feel free.

If I want to, I can stand right outside my kitchen, soaking up as much as I can of the city life vibes, and no one can stop me. As I type this, I can let tears flow down my cheeks, not because I’m sad, but just because I finally feel something.

Trust me; when you have lived in numbness for almost four decades, realizing you are still able to feel becomes a euphoric experience.

And as I take one last sip from my cup, I feel a happiness I cannot put into words. I wish I could, dear reader, I truly do. Not only that, but I wish I could take pictures and buy a few souvenirs so when things get sad, I can at least look back and say, “See, I knew happiness once. She used to be my pal.”

Because the second I smell happiness is around, fear shows up too. The fear of loss, of abandonment, of not being everything I “should” be. And those nasty feelings come from the memory of the old me, the one who never knew how to protect herself. I know it is all in my head, that forsaken place where all my monsters like to hang out.

So I get back into my apartment, place the cup in the sink, and stare at it for a long time, too stunned by the realization that just hit me.

The thing is, I don’t have to do this anymore. I don’t have to keep living in fear of what will happen next.

I can live. I can enjoy people and let them enjoy me. I get to relish in the magic each minute of my existence brings to me. Places to go, new experiences to have, things to learn.

I can love, and I can be alone. I am entitled to enjoy both.

And just like I adore living in this city, even if so many times I get angry at her, I can look back at everything that transpired in my life and be grateful.

Everything that happened, everyone I met, every place I have ever been, all of it, brought me here, to this cup of tea and this cigarette and this beautifully dangerous night.

This is what makes me feel alone and yet not lonely. This is what makes me feel loved.

This…this is it. My life is in my hands, the way it should have always been.

When Numbness Moves In

Stream of consciousness

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If You Learn to Live Alone, You’ll Never Feel Lonely

If you get the chance, go for it

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