Why so lonely?

People tend to use the word in its most negative sense, and I can't say that, in my weaker moments, I don't succumb to the same thinking. But it's not necessarily a bad thing - was Thoreau lonely at Walden Pond? Isolation can be a productive thing, with a plethora of reflective time and necessitation of self-reliance. Thus, I use the term in a value-neutral way, and allow the cards to fall as they may. Specifically, I mean "lonely" in a two-pronged meaning.

The lonely

First, and probably most obviously, is the most literal definition. I moved to this city, 1000 miles from my home, three years ago to attend medical school. My fiance moved here a year later, by which point I had become completely disconnected with my lifelong desire to pursue a medical career (more on that later). The friends I had made in my class quickly vanished, along with all of the social connections I had here. 

I have a job that pays decently enough, but my work is done almost entirely remotely -- I've met my boss in person three times. I have met some people through my fiance, but they're really only acquaintances, who have a lot more in common with his interests than mine. Thus, on an average day, he may very well be the only person I talk to. 

I'm an introvert, for sure, and I've never been the type to just go out and meet random people somewhere. It's always been in a place where you can't help but make friends - school, work, my college dorm - and I'm just not in that kind of circumstance anymore. I just don't even know how you go about it. I'd feel completely stupid going to a bar or coffee shop and just talking to whatever kind-looking face happens to be there, and I don't really see any other way to go about it. And really, it almost never bothers me. I don't have an excess of leisure time, and honestly, I'd rather spend it with a good book than another person.

The Lonely Minimalist

In the second sense, I'm lonely in my minimalist tendencies. Nobody in my life seems to have any interest in or inclination toward voluntary simplicity, and I don't really know what to do with myself. I've been immersed in the minimalist blogosphere for several years now, without posting a single comment on anything out of… fear? shyness? I'm not quite sure why, but the result is that nobody knows I'm out there, even as I've followed these bloggers for years and gotten to know them well. Which is kind of weird when you think about it, but that's just the nature of the blogging beast.

The biggest issue that this raises, above all others, is in my relationship. I plan to get into a lot more detail about this in the future, but here it is in a nutshell: My fiance is a wonderful guy, and so sweet and smart and supportive in every other way, but he's a "collector." I put that term in quotation marks, because I'd almost categorize him as a hoarder if it wasn't all so well organized. It limits what parts of the city we can live in, because we need space for all of his junk and a 2-bedroom apartment downtown is too expensive for two students. The hobbies also consume a fair amount of money, which I'd much rather spend on a modest but much-needed annual vacation. So I'm stuck living in a semi-suburban, car-dependent neighborhood, in a pile of video games and various other man-toys, and I'm not happy. I have no intentions of leaving, but I'd like to change his perspective a bit.

So in a nutshell, that's the lonely bit. When I get time to compose the next segment, "Why Minimalist?" I'll get a little more into my own background and why I feel compelled to live a simpler life. Until then, adios.