Alone Time

So I finished, "Into the Wild" and I'm left thinking about Chris McCanndless, the young man who the book was largely about. One of the themes kept jumping out at me was Chris's struggle between desiring solitude and the intimancy of friends. Wrapped up in that was Chris's sense of adventure, an insasiable draw towards it really. With little surprise to many I found myself relating to Chris on one level or another, and actually it was a little scary. A little scary because Chris wound up dead. Granted his urges were stronger than mine, so I'm safe on that level, but are there things I should be concerned about?

Part of the draw to move about the country, to drive here and there, is the freedom of being alone. The urge to venture often comes as I start to get close to others. Although, I must admit there are times when the imminence of an oncoming adventure brings a closeness with others that is brought about by the safety of leaving soon and not getting too close.

I've also come to a realization recently. I love my alone time. In fact, I've found myself fighting for it, and toughting it, more and more over the last few years. Yet I find myself need to make a confession that I really like people, and I need people. I desire the intimacy of friends, but instead I find myself keeping them at arms length. That is what scares me. In that distance, in that isolation, there is a certain sort of death I suppose.