The Nature of Being Alone Together - Intro

The night before I left to Europe felt like falling asleep on Christmas Eve, except the excitement of waking up to gifts was replaced with the crippling anxiety of waking to an irrevocable decision that would land me 3,453 miles away from home. 'Holy shit!' I thought. 'What have you done?' I continued to panic, awaken with the thought of arriving on another continent where I'd spend the next couple of months estranged from all that was once familiar . Attempting to get some rest, I shook the feeling and went back to sleep knowing that in a few hours I'd embark on what was soon to be the biggest trip of my life.

The feeling of cold feet fleeted by morning as my anxiety was soon replaced with irrepressible excitement. It was not long before I landed in London where I found myself trying to make sense of the directions I planned in advance to get me from the airport to my hostel.

Less than 24 hours later after checking into Palmers Lodge, I made my way downstairs to the lounge where I began taking inventory of my unfamiliar surroundings. With a strong, but European-sized (miniature), cup of coffee in hand, I reluctantly locked eyes with a tall shaggy haired young-looking man. How does this whole make-friends-with-strangers thing work, anyway?’ I remember thinking to myself, as I instinctively walked toward the wooden bench that stretched from beneath him. Before I had the chance to answer my question, I sat beside the shaggy-haired-stranger and engaged in (what I would soon grow to master) the ritual-solo-traveler-introductory talk:

‘Where are you from? Where have you been so far? Where are you off to next?’

In speculation and awe, our expressions mirrored as we both recited identical itineraries: “London, Paris, Switzerland...ITAL-” I paused, silently contemplating whether I had already fallen victim to some get-kidnapped-while-travelling scheme.

Brushing it off, I leaned on faith, and exchanged instagrams with who would soon become my first of many travel companions.

Before parting ways, I clumsily gathered my belongings and told Shaggy I was going to the store to buy hairspray.

“I’ll see you later?"

I motioned away halfheartedly, disconnecting from the only meaningful human contact I had thus far.

Shaggy anxiously combed his fingers through his hair and looked to me:

"…Can I come...?”

I smiled with relief.

It was at that moment I discovered the nature of being alone together. My insecurities were matched with someone who was equally vulnerable.

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Click to read NOBAT- Part 2

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