Class. Lunch. More class. Dinner. Library. Home. Rinse and repeat for five days a week and somehow, more than a month of school has already flown by. I guess with the semester being almost halfway finished (and only my long dreaded midterms standing between me and the freedom of reading week), I’ve entered a bit of a self-reflective mood. In retrospect, my first month feels uneventful and almost boring. 

I guess it all boils down to this: university life is a lot more lonely than one would expect. Sure it seems social on the surface since you’re surrounded by hundreds of people every day, but you walk in parallel with them, headed in the same direction but never crossing paths. It’s been full of recognizing faces from class but not knowing any names, of quick chats in the elevator that never amount to plans, of waving at the guy you went to high school with but never saying more than a word to each other. 

Of course, this is partially my own responsibility–I’m not a social butterfly by any means. I’ve always been someone that tended to spend time alone, and the workload hasn’t made being social easier either. I choose to go to Robarts by myself after dinner, I choose to sit in a cubicle reading and re-reading, annotating, tearing my hair out after spending an hour on a single calculus question. When I’m walking back to my residence past midnight, and the only person sharing the street is a biker going down St. George, I do feel alone. But somehow, I think that there’s a certain comfort I find in my own solitude. My own company, being alone with my thoughts, is the only thing that doesn’t change no matter where I go or what I do. 

There’s so much peace in forgetting the real world as the fuzzy guitar of Drop Nineteens’ “Kick The Tragedy” repeats and repeats, becoming background music for my thoughts. To tilt my head along to the girlish singing on “After Hours” or to hum along to the melody of “Come and Play In The Milky Night (Demo)” or to tap my fingers with the bassline of Men I Trust’s mysterious “Girl” as I wait for the crosswalk light to turn green makes me feel so much like myself. Taking the long way home, looping around paths with both headphones in, listening to the gentle guitar of “Turbines/Pigs” by Black Country, New Road or the twinkly and ethereal sounds of Animal Collective’s “Chocolate Girl” feels like home to me. Cass Elliot’s singing on “Didn’t Want To Have To Do It” is like a warm hug in the cold nighttime air, one that lets me know that being alone is not so bad. The melancholic instrumentals, gentle vocals, slow tempo, and tinge of mystery of my playlist “Deserted Streets” is the perfect soundtrack for nighttime roaming. 

When I visited home for Thanksgiving weekend, my parents asked me if I felt lonely at school. To them, I guess the answer would be yes, not that I’d have the heart to tell them that. I see my friends in class, or on Friday nights when we watch bad movies together, but most of my time is spent in my own company. I think that’s what my parents mean by “lonely,” but honestly, I don’t mind it all that much. Sure, I might not be out partying, but it’s a Monday night and I finished all of my readings, so I think I came out on top anyways.

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