In this rapidly changing era, everyone is busy pursuing the responsibilities in their own lives, making it difficult to find the time to care for others.
Against this backdrop, a lasting and loyal friendship or love story is all the more precious. Most pieces of literature narrate the perfect story about meeting someone with whom you have a deep connection with. But in reality, the probability of that happening is often quite small, and most people aren’t so lucky.
I want to tell a story about solitude. During my freshman year of college, I met my best friend ever, who happens to be myself.
Before coming to Boston University, I lived on the other side of the earth where I was familiar with everything and everyone in my community. I had the happiest time in my high school –– staying with my friends all day long and going back to see my parents once a week. Every day I opened my eyes, my classmates were surrounding me –– and a third of them were my closest friends.
My friendships are the most precious treasure I have in my life. Graduation was quite tough for me. It was similar to a separation from my family –– but I knew it was time to have new adventures and meet a new family in Boston.
I’m very extroverted and found it easy to accumulate a vast network of friends. And due to my nature of care, most of them consider me to be their “BFF.” Therefore, I never assumed it would be hard for me to settle down and have a new close friend group here at BU.
At the start of freshman year, I tried my best to talk to my peers in my orientation group, knocked every door on my floor, shared my snacks with them and sat with some classmates and introduced myself.
A month later, I found myself making no true friends, but a lot of friends I would merely greet with a “hello” in passing. I kept introducing myself to new people, but didn’t see them anymore. Sometimes, my floormates whom I waved to and shared snacks with, pretended to not see me to avoid the greetings.
With great expectations for my new life here in Boston, I couldn’t help but feel excluded and disappointed. I got used to staying with my close friends all day long — sharing every meal, having classes together, wandering around on campus and confiding in one another. But not anymore. I finally realized that my high school life was permanently gone –– and maybe I will never belong to this new place, I was totally not welcomed.
At first, I felt extremely lonely. Usually, when I’m walking on the street, I would put on earbuds –– my phone blasting songs that held precious memories of me and my old friends. I wished I could find a quiet spot to let out my emotions. Everything was so quiet without my friends’ voices. I used to find a chair on BU beach and talk to the leaves above my head –– immersing myself in the world where it was just me and the trees.
A conversation from “The Little Prince” reemerged in my head:
“‘Where are the men?’ The little prince at last took up the conversation again. ‘It is a little lonely in the desert.’
‘It is also lonely among men,’ the snake said.”
Being frustrated with my life, I decided to go to behavioral medicine and ask for professional advice. I told my therapist that I didn’t feel like myself –– I used to be outgoing and confident with my communication skills, but not anymore.
The therapist suggested journaling, and it’s become a beautiful way for me to feel like I’m talking to my old friends, reflecting on my own life and hearing the voice deep inside my heart.
Sometimes, I would revisit my diary entries from the past few months, finding the concerns I mentioned previously no longer bothering me. I noticed my growth, and was truly happy with the change.
Wandering around the city and listening to music is another way I have learned to cope. For me, walking around is like having conversations with every building, every tree and every block on the way, which is a good way to know the neighborhood.
I lived in Warren Towers my freshman year, and never bothered to look on the other side of the bridge on St. Mary street. But when I feel sad, I now convince myself to explore new, unknown places.
I put on my ear buds and walked southwards, then I found a quiet, beautiful neighborhood on Beacon Street, and watched the most shocking sunset in my life.
I gradually noticed the existence of my BFF –– myself –– deep inside my heart. Not everyone is lucky enough to meet one’s close friends in college, as it is crowded and people get less chances to know each other very well. Getting along with ourselves is a lifelong battle. No matter where we are and who we are with, we must never forget to love ourselves.
