Let me tell you about being alone together. Its one of the most cliché feelings, expressed as a paradox, you may ever experience. That is, of course, if you’re capable of having the experience.
Being alone together is a moment that shifts in purpose and tangibility depending on the emphasis of the phrase. You can be alone together, meaning that you can be in physical company while at peace with. The feeling is sometimes euphoric. Think of it, two people sitting in a drive in watching a movie: alone together. This is the moment that some romantic couples fall in love with, the peace of the emotions that can come from two people just sitting in the same space. This romanticized non-fiction is beautiful, but pales in comparison to the all-to-real moments of being alone, but together.
See, I think the darker, more powerful emotion is loneliness, and that togetherness is the beauty. Acting as a calm after the storm, being together quells the shaking that comes from being alone.
But what happens when the tremors are too much
I think that there is something to the swell of emotions that come from fiery depths and say, “I’m alone, and I’m stuck with someone.” That the human complex is so simple, that one positive equals a negative, is a truth that our minds can rarely take in. No, more often than not, it’s the loudest of the choir of emotions that rings through to the forefront. Here, in the current arrangement of “Alone Together”, it is not the lavish bass we hear, calmly chanting “together”. No, the belting soprano who soars above the other voices is Alone.
Alone, the beautiful Belle of the ball, reminds us that we are still singular. She sings of a time when we were “I”, and she knows the tune well. She chides us for wandering too close to foolish togetherness and reminds us of our solitude. She screams, “yes, my lovechild, yes you are but yourself!” After bellowing her chorus, she has moved us all to tears, sometimes to madness, with her exquisite technique, braving the best of those to show her skill. For she is, too, alone. And though togetherness sat at her shoulder, begging for a duet of beauty and grace, she knows that he will leave her. She will never give him the spotlight.
Loneliness, in her velvet black ballgown, comes to greet you willingly. I think she likes it better that way. She prefers private moments with each of her dearest friends- you being in the lucky few is such an honor and privilege. Together greets the entire crowd willingly, and occasionally loneliness entertains the idea. However, loneliness knows about your secrets. Loneliness cascades down the stairway to you, her only audience member, and applauds you for coming. She lauds you with praise and admiration, for she is the only person willing to accept you. She sees all of you and she loves all of you.
And Together, he just can’t.
He invites too many people who have too much to say. He loves the crowds and the people that get in the way of so many of the complexities that you have worked so hard to move through. Togetherness ruins Alone’s fun. And, while they are both coupled, and both love their beautiful duets, it’s the silence of the other that creates a beautifully rough dissonance-mixed-harmony. It’s the loss of one that makes the other more noticeable. For what would the sonorous soprano be without her tender bass. What is our loneliness without being together.