I have been house-sitting for my mentor, while she, her husband and their 4 children are in Miami. I have been doing it since Saturday. The first three days were a dream. The solitude was nice. I coveted the retreat. But yesterday, I walked in the door from work at 4:42pm and it hit me. There was no one to talk to. No one to ask about my day. No one to hug me. No one to think about. There was just me. And my books. And the tv. But I didn’t want the tv. Nothing good comes on at 4:42pm. And I didn’t want to disengage from the world. But I didn’t want to read either. So at 4:53pm, I left. And didn’t come home until almost 8pm. At which point I ate dinner, by myself. And fled to my books.
I have a friend who lives by himself. And until yesterday, I really had no chance at having empathy for his plight of loneliness. But going home to no one isn’t fun. And it isn’t easy. So, dear friend of mine, if you are reading this, forgive me for lacking compassion. I understand you more today than I did yesterday at 4:41pm. And that is a good thing.
All that being said, maybe I have decided to blog because I really want to be talking, but there is no one to talk to (at least this week). Or maybe it is just that I must do something with the thoughts that are scrambling around in my tireless brain. Or is it because three people that I love have three unique, really cool blogs and I thought I could add to the mix? Or it could be that I have rediscovered an old love of mine- writing. Whatever the reason, here is my blog.