Can you be alone but still have a community? One man’s venture into online role-playing.
“…I’d rather be a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me … ” Fleet Foxes, “Helplessness Blues”
Not too long ago I had friends in Mexico, Canada, England, Ireland, South Korea, and a couple of islands where people actually understand Rastafarianism. We were a close-knit group of guys (and a token girl). The type of guys you always see at the same booth at the same bar, laughing at the first half of a joke because we all know the punch lines already. Think “How I Met Your Mother” (we even had a Canadian).
Groups that tightly bound usually have names for themselves to signify their “in-ness” and distinguish others’ “out-ness.” We called ourselves Team Pink Death. We raided castles together, stormed fortresses, fought ice trolls and other sorts of fell beasts. We shared items—an ax for a warrior, a staff of death magic for a necromancer—and we also shared a deep bond. We were a guild.
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You see, my girlfriend had just walked out on me and taken our friends with her. I was embarrassed to slink back to the guys I had ghosted on in favor of my girlfriend’s friend group. It would seem that I wasn’t a very good friend or boyfriend. What I was good at was being a Healer Monk. I was in the upper-echelon of badass.
Now if you put much stock in armchair psychology (and I do), it seems pretty obvious why I would choose to be the most desired and necessary character on any mission.
Alone in my basement eating hot pockets (I know, I know), I had remade myself into someone that others quite literally couldn’t live without.
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But was I actually alone? I had a friend in Mexico who helped me with Spanish class. I had heated political debates with a staunch libertarian. I had a crush on a female Ranger who, statistically speaking, was almost definitely a guy.
We problem-solved together. We disagreed. We shared.
Can it be solitude simply because I was the only one physically in the room?
I later rejoined the ranks of society. There were no TV news anchors nor was I enveloped in flames upon re-entry. I simply slipped back into my friend group (and my job).
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I don’t know if it was true solitude. What I do know is that the rest of the world and I needed some time apart. We needed to figure out what we wanted out of the relationship. Apparently, I just needed to be needed.
There’s a lot to be gained by questioning who you would be if you could decide right now. And why aren’t you that person? I think that sort of reflection might take some time alone to figure out.
Who would I be? I’d be the lust-child of Langston Hughes and Qui-Gon Jinn. People would say, “Don’t invite that Jedi warrior poet anymore; every woman instantly falls in love with him and he drinks all the booze. But dammit, he’s a pretty alright guy.”
Photo andronicusmax/Flickr
Really, the notion of online communities and online social connections should be commonplace enough now that people are done asking whether it even exists and acting amazed that it might.
The day I stop thinking Hurry up and get with it, gramps! is the day I’ll realize I’ve become old myself.
i could really really identify with this post. thank you for validating me. I’m just now starting to re-enter society and work at beginning new relationships. and I did need that time off, to heal and re-group.