Weirdness

Weird thing, being alone.  It's a blessing and a curse.  It's a split personality.  It's yin & yang.  Or something like that.

I spent the first 41 years of my life, almost entirely without exception, living with others.  As few as one, as many as four (and that's if you don't count my four legged house-mates).  Building bonds, feeling love, making mistakes.  The lion's share of my life shared minute by minute with those I love or have loved around me.

Now that I am in my seventh year living alone, although I have been sharing a large part of my life until recently with someone else, I am now at night in the quiet of my home alone again.  My children are grown and happy and independent and successful, each in their own perfect way.  A great gift, this I know.  But I am here surrounded now instead by my choices and mandates that have given me the great joys and consuming lows which made my life.

Weird thing is, right now I can't imagine a day when I would share this physical space with someone else.  Maybe it's that I'm too self-indulgent in my routines.  Maybe it's that I'm a decorating dictator.  Maybe it's that I'm just not ready.  Plain and simple.

Whatever the equation is that created that solution, I find it weird.  To be sometimes lonely yet simultaneously reluctant to accepting the resolution.   Weird.

But that's life I guess.