A Memory of Aloneness

Knowing how to be alone is an antidote to loneliness.

More To That
Human Parts


In my senior year of college, I took part in a 6-month study abroad program in Hong Kong. It was my way of telling myself that I needed to step away from Los Angeles, the city where I was born and raised. Other than a few short trips here and there, I never really left LA, and even chose it as the city where I attended college as well.

By committing to this 6-month stay in Hong Kong, I was stepping outside the bounds of the known and into the arena of the unfamiliar. It was my silent declaration of departure, a stern affirmation that I’d embrace the discomfort of foreign sights and sensations.

What followed was an unforgettable time where I made new friends, took a lot of pictures, got into a (short-lived) relationship, took part in a dance competition, traveled to nearby countries, did a lot of stupid things in clubs, and studied for a few hours during the course of an entire semester. 6 months of memories, of which there are just a few that I can readily access.

But there’s one particular memory that’s surfacing as I’m writing today’s letter.

One night, my friends and I took a bus to head out to Lan Kwai Fong, the party district of the city. It was probably around 10 PM, the weather was fair, and the bus was unusually empty. We all had a decent amount to drink already, so conversations and laughter were…