I am stood over my sink eating a Reese’s Nut Bar and absent-mindedly watching the flakes of chocolate and peanuts tumble downward. It’s 3pm on a Sunday, I’m tired and I have a vague hangover. I’m shivering in the loose men’s Rolling Stone t-shirt I’ve taken to sleeping in and haven’t changed out of despite the time. I’m finding everything somewhat paradoxical at the moment – I’m lonely but I don’t especially feel like seeing anyone. I’m bored despite having lots of things I could do. My flat is my little haven but sometimes I just get tired of staring at the same four walls. If I work from home on a Thursday (I don’t work on Fridays) and then have a weekend with no plans I can easily go several days without seeing or speaking to anyone. This can be in equal parts blissful and saddening.
My friend came to stay this weekend and we had a really lovely weekend of catching up, floating around the swimming pool at the spa and drinking prosecco (hence the hangover). When the time came for her to go back home I felt quite sad – mainly because I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like, but also because it makes it feel a little lonelier than normal having friends visit and then leave. It makes the flat feel a little emptier for having had that presence there. I also sometimes imagine my visiting friends arriving home later that day, to a warm hug from a boyfriend or husband who has missed them and wants to hear all about their weekend away. I feel a pang of jealousy but I also feel joy that they have found the people who will love and nurture them, and watch from the window for them to arrive home.
I don’t need to be lonely, and for that I am lucky. This isn’t enforced solitude, it is through choice. My flat has become my comfort blanket and safe space and when I’m not there I yearn to be tucked up under the sheets with a book, or curled up on the sofa with a good book. But when I am there, I gaze out of the window and wonder about all of the lives I am missing out on. Is this really living? Long Sundays that stretch out before me, listening to the ticking clock and wondering how early I can justify going to bed. I am grateful for my friends and family, whom I know I could see at any time if I was really feeling alone. But maybe right now, alone is what I need.
As a feminist, I feel that I shouldn’t long for a boyfriend, or for someone to love and be loved by. I consider myself fairly independent but sometimes when I roll over on a Sunday morning, I do long to have an arm snake around me and pull me inwards. I think I took it for granted before, how good that feels. Just to have that feeling of sitting on the sofa and watching TV together, even if you’re not speaking. To come home from work and find someone in the kitchen, cooking up that dinner you like, being greeted with the smell of onions frying and the sight of the teatowel slung over their shoulder.
I feel like 2017 was a healing period, a limbo period. A time of getting used to a new life and settling in. And now I feel ready for the growth and to start chasing some of my dreams. As I’ve mentioned previously, I do believe in the power of the Law Of Attraction, and this year I am determined to manifest lots of love, light, travel and happiness. When I’m feeling lonely I’m going to try and put my energy into creating all of these things, rather than feeling sorry for myself and focussing on what hasn’t yet come into my life. I feel ready for love, and ready for adventure. But I also need that balance of quiet time so that I don’t get overwhelmed. It will all be okay. It always is.
