Out of touch
I’VE ALWAYS SUSPECTED I’m more adept at being alone than most: I’m naturally introverted, live solo and often seek solitude. No man is an island, but I have thought I could pass as a metaphorical peninsula: connected to the mainland but content to be largely detached.
So I was surprised to discover that during required annual leave – a period of three weeks during this year’s lockdown when social distancing regulations were at their most rigorous – I really, truly, profoundly missed humans.
It wasn’t loneliness or sadness that descended, but a longing to be seen, connect with, and feel the energy of my own species in the flesh. Setting out on a daily constitutional and spotting a human on approach, I felt like a dog whose tail wags frenziedly in recognition of its own kind. Yet such encounters were, and I retreated back to my pot-plant flatmates.
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