January 21, 2019:
He likes being alone. He hates being alone.
Alone time equals productivity. Without distractions or interruptions: music, writing. Also freedom: ability to arbitrarily go where The Force leads from moment to moment. I want to write now; I want to jog now; I don't want to clean the sink today.
Alone time equals isolation. Quiet: lack of voices, only his own, saying things he already knows. No exploration, no warmth, no sex, no cuddling before the TV or breakfast with flowers in happy romantic mornings. No sharing. No-one to take care of.
It's impossible to balance. Balance is a myth.
So he oscillates, or maybe better to say fluctuates. Activities, moods, states of mind. Some days desperate for company, other days desperate for isolation.
Rhythm of his life.