Living Alone

29 Sep

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I cooked dinner tonight on a plug-in stovetop.

Cous cous with spinach and tomatoes, grilled zucchini and toasted pine nuts. The type of meal the recipe called “simple” but I had to buy every product for.

I listened to Joni Mitchell Blue while I prepared, my internet and phone service not working. I had spicy cheese and crackers for dessert. Cinnamon tea bfore bed.

I live alone now.

In a glorious, glorious twist of fate I am finally in my own space.

I had a bit of glee today remembering my college days and how I lived in a place where the landlords would regularly inspect the state of our apartment. “Cleaning checks” they were called.

I’ve since learned this was unique to my school.

I always barely passed cleaning checks, usually with a character reference from a housemate. “Her room is usually much worse,” they said, about my tiny box shared with another person.

How I had a life in there I do not know. How two people had lives in there I certainly do not know.

In many ways I think this blog is the story of my growing up. I started it at 25, the year my pre frontal cortex fully developed. I was very sad. I was starting on career number two. I was spending most of my energy on a boy who gave me half-hearted nothing attempts at anything.

Rob was my friend, always listening to me and helping me set up tables from Ikea. It would take me two years for him to work up the courage to ask me out and two years for me to work up the sense to say yes.

In other ways I think this blog is a love story to Rob. It is the story of us, he’s there through the words. Always in the background. Friend. Secret Boyfriend. Open Boyfriend. Year four on the Cape.

It’s a chronicle of our love story, one that is currently evolving and growing and changing and settling into something really nice. I don’t write about it as much, but it’s settling into something nice and comfortable.

I ate my couscous salad with homemade dressing and did my dishes, placing the wet bowls in a tray beneath my Princess Diana portrait.

I crawled into my bed, my mountain of pillows with a mountain of books.

I drank a big glass of water.

 

 

I’m settling into something nice and comfortable.

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One Response to “Living Alone”

  1. Bailey Brewer September 30, 2016 at 8:30 am #

    All beds should have mountains of books either next to or in them.

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