Those of you who know me, and/or have read my blog before, will know that I’m not averse to spending time alone. In fact, I rather like it. I’ll often choose alone time over a social environment. Alone time with my lovely dog that is. So perhaps you can tell me why tonight, I am feeling somewhat lonely and rather wish I wasn’t going back to an empty flat.
I’ve had a few days at home recently; two over my birthday and then another two at the start of this week, so I imagine that’s a contributing factor. I love coming home to see my parents and the dogs but I don’t often feel weird about leaving again these days. The past two days have been a bit odd though as Mum and Dad are on holiday so it was just me and Ben looking after the dogs. He went out this evening with his girlfriend and as they shut the door I suddenly felt a bit odd.
I have my Daisy and we have a nice little routine together. I enjoy my evenings curled up on the sofa with her, watching rubbish on tv or a Disney movie. She’s nice quiet company for my cranky old lady soul. It usually doesn’t occur to me to feel lonely or to even think about the fact I don’t have anyone waiting for me apart from the washing up I didn’t do before I left and possibly a spider or two that crept through the window while I was away. But tonight, it’s on my mind.
Tonight I am having those thoughts that make me wish I was better at making friends, that I had a social life of some description, that I could fire off a message and be having a drink with someone twenty minutes later. I know it’s my own fault, my cantankerous nature coupled with the lifestyle I maintain is not conducive to my becoming a social butterfly. I do not meet people for one, as I live and work in a secluded location with limited contact outside of the horsey bubble. And even if I did? I’m so tired and grumpy most of the time it’s little wonder I do not endear myself to others.
I find myself yearning for school and uni days sometimes. Those years of having friends around every corner. I could pop down the road to the pub whenever I wanted and there’d be someone to talk to.
It changes the way time passes I think. When you spend a lot of time alone, it can feel like you’re wasting it. And it can drag on and on, making you feel truly miserable!
Don’t worry, I’m not getting mushy and sentimental. I don’t intend to sit here and cry “woe is me” and desperately seek human interaction. I’m the kind of person that tends to sit and analyse their thought process (hence this post) rather than act on it.
And you needn’t worry that I’m allowing myself to wallow and fall into a pit of lonely despair. Nothing of the sort. Like I said, I have my Daisy and crappy tv.
I’m merely feeling the consequences of my life choices. I think it’s healthy to acknowledge that. I have made my bed. Time to lie in it. Although I might change the sheets first.
Who doesn’t love clean sheets, right?!?
Also, I apologise for the unimaginative format of this post. I’m writing it on my phone because everything else is in the flat.
To which I really should travel soon.