Saying Goodbye

I thought I was alone. I knew I had friends, some good friends, some acquaintances. But ultimately I thought I was alone in a city filled with people. Unnoticed, invisible, able to slip in and out without a whisper.

How I was wrong. Once I began telling people of my decision to leave San Francisco, the response was overwhelming. I went on a whirlwind tour of dinners, brunches, coffees, going away parties. People were sad, some visibly so. But most understood. I have a wonderful opportunity waiting for me, a chance to check out for awhile and write in solitude until the economic storm lets up a bit. Still, they were sad.

And that makes me a bit sad. What a missed opportunity, to have brilliant, creative, sophisticated, engaging, kind-hearted people in my life and yet sit alone in the corner feeling sorry for myself. And yet what a revelation.

I spoke with a friend recently who related the story of her ex, who's gone a bit, shall we say, "off". Amongst the stories he's telling himself is that he has no friends, no one to hang out with or turn to. As we talked about how sad it was that he was so delusional and self-destructive, I had to bite my tongue. I understand this. It's a strange veil of occlusion, pulled down by a hand of habits. Some of us habituate depression. When we falter in coping with a major disappointment, we revert not to anger or defensiveness but the stance of failure. We use the disappointment as ammunition to say that yes, in fact we are weak / clumsy / stupid / a failure. It's a delusion. But that delusion begins to spread and infect the truer, brighter moments of our lives.

I think it's common to see ourselves as alone in our misery. In addition to being grateful for all the amazing friends I have in San Francisco, I'm grateful for cracking open that delusion in time to appreciate what I have, if only for a few days. That I can see this and still feel right about my decision to go tells me I'm on the right path.  I'll miss many, many things about this city. But one thing I'll take with me is the knowledge that the party starts right here. All I have to do is ask people to join it.

And in moments of darkness, no matter how lonely I feel, I'm never truly alone.