Sometimes I dream of being alone. I dream of a little apartment, in the city or near the beach. The walls are cream. The windows constantly open to the sun, breeze and noise. I dream of lying on my bed, soaking in the sun, of sitting on my tiny balcony with a cup of tea, watching the world bustle by. I dream of yoga sessions at 2am when insomnia strikes, knowing that my sudden alertness disturbs no one. I think of those hot summer nights with the fan roaring.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be alone.
I remember being alone, but I never recall feeling lonely. I was always happy with my own company. For the past five and so years I haven’t been alone though. I love my partner, I really do. I love the little life we’ve created, but sometimes, I cannot help but picture being alone. Being alone in a relationship is not like being alone whilst single. His presence is everywhere. When he is not home, I can still feel him around. That’s his recliner, his hairs in the bathroom sink, his favourite juice in the fridge, his side of the bed. When I am alone, I feel lonely. At 2am when insomnia strikes, I desperately will myself to sleep, knowing that my alertness will awake him, knowing that if I move, his sleep will be affected too.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I dream of being alone.