Sometimes it is hard to be brave. Today, that means it's harder to be alone. And I know. There are 16 of you who are saying, "You're not alone". And I know that. I do. But I am.
I live alone. I sleep alone. I wake up alone. I eat alone. I read alone. I sit and wonder about life alone. I worry about the house alone. I take care of the garbage alone. I clean out the closets alone. I replace the toilet paper less than you because I am alone.
When I need a hug, there's no one here to give it and when I just need someone to look at me and know that all I need is a smile, or to sit in silence and hear another human breath, there is no one breathing.
And somedays it doesn't matter. And somedays it is better this way. But somedays, like today, it would be really great to have someone smile at me and let me listen to their breathing.
I've realized that I am a much more social person than I ever thought. I enjoy being alone and I enjoy quiet time and I enjoy being able to leave my clothes on the floor or eat Berry Berry Kix for dinner instead of making chicken.
But I miss the interaction that goes with having someone to live with. I miss having support and miss knowing that although it snowed 6 feet I'll have someone to help, or that if the roof caves in I'll have someone's shoulder to cry on AND we'll fix the situation together.
And what's funny about all of this is that I've never had this kind of relationship. My ex-husband did little else but work and Jamie was, well, nuts. He created more drama than any house in the country could. So how can I miss something I've never had?
I think this is coming from the fact that my home owners insurance denied the claim I submitted for the flood and I am stuck with an $800 bill and an oil tank that is threatening to run out of oil. And it's no one's responsibility but mine. And that's both exhilarating and scary.
Which is why I said that sometimes it's hard to be brave.