Last August 8, I moved into my own place. I haven’t been by myself for a chunk of that time: the first week, my mother was with me to help me smooth things out at the new place, and the second week, I was back in the Philippines for dental surgery.
But it’s October now. I’ve held a housewarming dinner for relatives, holding a housewarming movie night (er, afternoon) this weekend, and I’ve smoothed into a normal routine. It’s business as usual in Casa Angela.
People sometimes ask me: aren’t you lonely?
I don’t think it’s for everyone. Living with others is cheaper, provides you with easy “entertainment” and distractions, divides the work of housekeeping between any number of capable hands, and you’d never have to be alone with your thoughts.
But you’d never be able to be alone with your thoughts.
In solitude, where we are least alone.
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage