I have never lived on my own before. When I was a child, that was the plan though, that was what I daydreamed about. I would grow up and get a career, then I would move to the city to live all alone. No husband and no children in my future. Honestly, I never cared for the latter, as for the husband it was never even a thought.
However, life had something else in store for me. I did get the career and I did move to the city. Not the city I dreamt of nor even the country, but the career box was checked, and the big city was even bigger than I dreamt. However, I never got the chance to live alone. I moved from my parent’s house to a home of my own with a husband and later some kids I earlier thought I never wanted.
I have no regrets about how my life turned out but there are moments when I really appreciate being alone, like tonight. I had spent the day out with one of my sons and I came back exhausted. I took a nap and woke up to silence. House in darkness, not a single light on. After a check all the rooms were empty. The alarm set was the last clue that I was alone.
Alone yes, even if just for a short while. So, I settle into my peace. I close the curtains, pour myself a drink, turn on a James Ingram playlist, got back in bed and I decided to write. What do I write about? I write about this, me, alone enjoying the solitude, James Ingram singing to me, just me alone.