I’m not one for feeling lonely.
When I was little, I could occupy myself for hours – alone and in silence – living my life out in my head, without need or want of a companion. Loneliness has never been a province of mine.
I know a lot of people who can’t abide being alone – even for a moment. Quiet solitude makes them uneasy. They need someone to be around at all times – and if there isn’t someone there, they get on their phone to make sure that someone soon will be. They do not do well sitting still. I have several friends and one or two family members that are like this. My Uncle was one of them – though maybe it was less a need to be around people and more of a desire to be around anyone other than me. I could never tell, and I’ll never know now.
These people are usually incredibly fun company because they need to be. Their disposition requires it of them, and their survival instincts have adapted them to being the kind of person you generally want to be around, precisely because they need people to be around them.
I’ve never understood that. Stillness and solitude never bothered me. I embraced them. The trick is not to need anyone. You can do anything if you can do that. You can fly. No ties, no responsibility, no bonds, no disappointments. That’s what drinking can do, and that’s what drinking is like – flying.
To that end, there’s no better cohort than a cocktail. A good drink is a forever-friend – find one that’s agreeable and it’s a companion for life. I’ve amassed a decent collection of such friends over the years. Many are chosen by the season – summer calling for a gin & tonic; fall asking for something with slightly more depth, like a Negroni; winter wanting for the substance and sustenance found in a Manhattan or Sazerac; and spring, well, spring is for any number of spellbinding beauties – an Aviation, a Last Word, a Ramos Gin Gizz… spring is for everything.
I’ve spent some of my most memorable moments of friendship over a cocktail. It’s often the only way I have of opening up and feeling comfortable with people. The ultimate annihilation of inhibition, and the only way I can show my true feelings, even if they were never meant to be spilled, even if they would do better bottled up.
There are those who drink to enhance companionship – the good-time drinkers. Sometimes, on good days, I can fall into this category and become just one of the crowd – in control of the good time, enjoying the company, and functioning like everyone else. But simple camaraderie is not the underlying reason for the drink.
I used to think that I drank to feel less alone. Strange, that – for as I said, I do not seek or need company as a general rule. I don’t mind a bit of banter with the bartender or a neighbor on the next barstool, but I’m perfectly content without them.
I guess I drink to feel less lonely with myself, if that makes sense – or more at ease with myself, at least. It is my own company that is uncomfortable – and the best way to escape from your own self is to approach oblivion.
What’s your poison?
