I wonder if anyone other than me is old enough to remember that bouncy, cheerful Gilbert O'Sullivan tune with the bouncy, cheerful lyrics that went something like this:
In a little while from now, if I'm not feeling any less sour, I promise myself to treat myself and visit a nearby tower. While climbing to the top, to throw myself off . . .
And so on and so forth. I had no idea when that song was popular during my youth that is was about depressed, miserable people. It sounded so freaking happy.
Anyhoo, Alone Again leads me to today's topic: I live alone, and that's fine with me.
Nobody looks over my shoulder and judges me. I have two bathrooms all to myself. I can bathe in one and shit in the other.
It's mine, all mine, and I like it like that.
Of course, the dogs are here. But living with dogs is not the same as living with people. The dogs are always happy and in love with me. Harper has disappeared a few times, but he doesn't intend to be cruel. He's adventurous. Dogs never ask for money and they don't want the keys to the car. Mine are very good about peeing and pooping in the yard.
I miss my children but not so much that I want to live with them. They need their independence, and for the first time in my life, I have mine. I quite often wake up in the morning, and even though he's been gone a long time, I wonder where my husband is. Why isn't he in the bed next to me? Then I remember and I feel the loss for a few minutes and let it go.
I can have as many dogs in bed with me as are willing to jump up and join me. If I can't sleep and I want to watch a movie at 3 a.m., I can. Nobody wakes me up by snoring when I've finally fallen asleep, and I don't wake up anyone with my snoring because dogs don't mind snoring. I get to use the computer when I want. No one turns on the TV when I'm reading.
I'm not alone again, but I'm alone.
And it's all good Mama.
Infinities of love,