It’s been a long damn time since I was alone. Let me trace it back. I had just gone through my divorce and I was living in the InTown Suites on 183. You should see their updated rooms now, pretty well done, almost upscale. I do recommend.
I was there for six months, all by myself, but I guess even then people circled around me. Between work and other guests and eventually a guy I started seeing, I was rarely alone.
Then there was the cabin, and I relished those mornings, when I’d wake up with everything in the world to do, and no one telling me where to start. It was so peaceful. I’d drive up to the store for some Monster and fuck around with some wood projects and then my boyfriend would come over after work, or I’d work, and either way it would be stimulating and I’m not sure a day went by that I didn’t have great sex.
Then Brian came along and there were always three people there: The boyfriend, the best friend, and the Brian. All of them were there to try to keep me from fucking the other two. Weird dynamic, but where it did not concern me, they got along well. Perhaps too well.
Then I hopped between them for a month or so while I tried to figure out what reality was, and settled on living with the boyfriend. Then we split and I got an apartment where I actively avoided relationships and I guess I was pretty alone then, but building this website kept me occupied (I’ll pay the bill soon and you’ll see it in all its glory again, and maybe I’ll finish it even), and I was a bit depressed and F came around almost daily so I never felt alone.
Then Brian came along again and he was always, always there. One time I was working onsomething, probably the podcast, that required a little privacy, and he fought with me for an hour when I asked if he could find somewhere else to be for a few hours. He would have sewn himself to me if he could. It was suffocating, and he wasn’t even nice.
Now everyone is gone, and the drugs are gone, and the entertainment is gone. And I’m so jaded from all the people who encroached on my aloneness that I doubt I’ll ever not be lonely again.
It’s a thing I swore I couldn’t feel. I have no one left at all who cares about me, no one left at all.
So hit me up for a massage so I can buy a laptop and be productive with my loneliness. Don’t hit me up to hang out though. I’m gonna be lonely anyway, and I’m much better off alone.