I’ve never enjoyed being alone. And by alone I mean without a boyfriend or husband. I’ve had one of those since I was 14-years-old.
I have a big birthday this week. BIG! And I will celebrate it with a couple of my oldest friends and one of my newest. But I will NOT be celebrating with someone who will come home with me after my special dinner, to curl up in my bed, and have intimate pillow talk about my day. And I’m discovering that, that’s ok.
Living and being solo isn’t nearly as bad as I’d always feared it would be. It’s quiet. It can be peaceful. It can even be fulfilling.
Last year, I traveled solo to Japan. It was the first time I’d ever travelled alone. It felt like an adventure. I hung out with friends who live there, but essentially I was alone. And it wasn’t a big deal AT ALL.
There are times I want to share my life with my friends and family. It’s not like I don’t want to experience everything with the people I love. I do. But, if I can’t enjoy and be OK with being alone, then life’s gonna’ feel pretty empty.
My dog keeps me company, and I spoil her with all my pent-up affection, but I’m not so deluded to think she’ll be enough forever.
Eventually, I’ll share my life with someone, and when it happens I know he’ll be a wonderful guy. Until then, I’m living my solo life yolo, because it’s still just this life. Solo or not, it’s the only one I’ve got — unless there’s reincarnation — but I’ll never know.
One monkey can’t stop this show. I can’t wait to jump into it with the right person. We all deserve to be happy. But, happiness doesn’t always come in pairs.