I once knew someone who so hated being alone that, on weekends, if he ran out of friends to meet, he'd even call up people he disliked. Yes, there were a couple of occasions that I got calls from him - anything to keep the silence away.
I know a few people like that (and they don't all dislike me); they are extroverted and outgoing, and can't stand being alone. But I don't know anybody else like S., a person with a personality that can be described only as a curse: he is both very extroverted and shy.
Due to this extreme extroversion, S. has no inner resources whatsoever, and has to turn outwards for everything, whether solace or entertainment.
He's in constant need of dynamic external stimulation, and is a texting and internet fiend. I've never seen him listen to a song all the way through before hitting the 'next' button.
Though he's not a huge talker, he has no quietness to him, and I can't imagine him gazing into space for even three seconds.
But S. is also shy, and doesn't make friends easily. He loves bars, malls, noisy restaurants and parties, but he's too nervous to approach anyone he'd like to meet, and takes a long time to come out of his shell. By 'long time', I mean months.
It's quite sad. Most shy people I know are also introverts - so though they find it hard to meet people, they aren't scared about being on their own for a weekend. They actually find people tiring, and often tiresome, and have to switch off every now and then to recoup.
Extroverts, on the other hand, find relaxation in people and social interaction. And so, S. tries to surround himself, but is one of the loneliest people I know.
He has many friends, and regularly travels around the world to meet them, but there's something desolate at his core. Other friends who are lonely, also know it, and this actually takes the edge of darkness away.
S. manages to avoid the issue by never pausing, not even for a second. He races through life, shopping compulsively, playing video games for hours, texting friends, or driving just for the sake of driving.
It's like that terrible Jason Statham movie in which his character will die if his adrenaline stops flowing, and so he has to keep up a frantic pace to survive.
But S. is convinced he's happy. I know, because he often talks about how pleased he is with life, making me wonder who he is trying to convince.
And he always rates his happiness by listing his possessions: the cool cellphone, the valve stereo, the giant TV and the incredibly expensive motorcycle. Oh, and the 'foosball' table in the living room.
What is it about feeling alone, though? People readily admit to all kinds of things - from haemorrhoids to stealing - but will not cede to loneliness, often not even to themselves.
Sometimes, they aren't lonely as individuals, but as units - for example, the group of friends that does everything together, but yearns for companionship from outside the circle.
And then of course there's the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence, that poignant expression of our loneliness as a species... okay, I'm part-joking there, but seriously, what is it about loneliness?
Is it because, for a social creature, loneliness is like death, and death is what we fear most of all? Does this mean S. taps continually on his high-end cellphone because of an innate fear of death? That's really funny, because after just a day of watching that, I want to kill him.
Gautam Raja is a journalist based in the United States.
