World population reached three billion about the time I began retaining memories of my existence. By the time I graduated from high school it had increased by another billion. The year I graduated from college there were yet another billion people in the world–five billion.
By the time I retired there were two and half billion more and barring global catastrophes capable of wiping out huge numbers of us, by this time next year the eight billion mark may be hit. And as the world grows more populous I find myself seeking places with the fewest number of people around.
I wasn't always this way. I used to seek company of others and enjoyed it. Now it's not important at all to be near people. It's not even desirable. Savoring solitude in many more ways than I ever savored company of others, I'm reluctant go back to any crowded, noisy, bustling, toxic places of the world.
Some people I know worry I'll die alone but I tell them not to be concerned about it because that's exactly how I want it to be. And if I manage to die naturally out here in wilderness rather than by some obscene means of destruction like auto accident, or mass shooting or by superbug thriving in some pathogen-ridden hospital then I'll die as happily as I can imagine possible.