Alone again – unnaturally

Written 13 March 2017

I used to live alone. Feels like a lifetime ago. I was in my 20s. I was teaching full-time and studying part-time, and I still had time to be involved in regular exercise. Besides that, I was also gigging.  Most of the time, I had a boyfriend. I have no idea how I managed to find time for everything. I do know that quite a few boyfriends became ex-boyfriends because of my need for space. Somehow, the type of partners I had weren’t able to see it as anything other than highly irregular and suspicious. As patient as I am with most things, I hate having to explain repeatedly that I mean what I say and that there is no hidden agenda. It was only after I’d been exposed to many more people, and encountered duplicity in various forms, that I understood their suspiciousness.

I’m alone this evening - rare, these days.  Twelve hours after leaving for work, I arrived home, exhausted. I imagined I’d do most of my favourite hobbies – write, dance, play my guitar, read – but right now, at 9pm, I can hardly keep my eyes open. It looks like I’ll actually achieve that elusive goal of getting to bed by 10. A miracle.

I always smile when people talk about their relaxing weekends. Relaxing weekend. What’s that?