The speaker looks back at a time when they believed life came with a checklist, and that being happy meant ticking off the right boxes at the right moments. Somewhere along the way, they absorbed the idea that being alone was a failure, something to avoid. They call this belief a "farce," which tells us they now see it as a kind of act they got swept up in, not a truth they ever chose.
The last line turns everything around. "Alone just means more time for me" is short and plain, and it feels like a relief. The epigraph, "the trick is to not hate being alone," sets up the idea that this is a skill, something you learn rather than something you're born knowing. The mood is calm, a little wry, and quietly reassuring. The speaker isn't celebrating loudly. They've simply stopped treating solitude as a problem and started treating it as a gift of time.