Today I was thinking about my living situation and how much I enjoy living on my own, essentially alone. I did, after a need for cuddles, get myself a kitten, but still I live alone. I am so used to being alone, I like it. i’ve also been single for longer than I’d care to admit, but again it doesn’t really bother me. Yes, I get an urge now and again to go out and find a date, but hey I’m human we all have needs.
Then I started thinking about my mom and how she reacted when I moved out. I felt like I broke her heart. But when I think about it her reaction was understandable. My mom has never once in her entire life lived alone. She grew up with her parents, in the house her grandparents grew up in. Her uncle moved next door when he grew up. She went a few towns over to school, but she had a roommate, or many. My mom married at the age of 21. My dad moved in with my mom and her parents then after having my brother they immigrated to Canada. Once here they ended up meeting many other Czech immigrants so when my dad was off finding work and my mom was home with two little kids she still had people she could talk to who lived near by.
My parents separated when I turned 16, but after my dad moved out my brother and I were still living with my mom. Then the Governor came into the picture (my step-dad but the name has no connection with The Walking Dead). He moved in with us, surprisingly. My mom didn’t tell me he had officially moved in and I had to call and ask her why all his plants and his cat were suddenly in our house.
Even though my brother and I are now moved out my mom still lives with the Governor. She has never lived alone in her whole life. She has no idea what it’s like and neither does my brother. My brother has travelled many places on his own but he always makes friends and meets people. He currently lives with a roommate. The only person in my immediate family who’s lived on his own is my dad. He moved out and lives on his own out in the middle of nearly no where. But then again, his girlfriend is frequently there so he’s not alone all that often.
It’s really just me in the family that craves that aloneness. I live in my head most of the time anyways so living alone just makes sense for me I guess. I can imagine living with roommates and the fun that it could entail, but I think I’m really more of a loner these days. I love my friends and I love seeing them but it’s rare when I do with my busy schedule. This makes me think that I might be very selfish. I’m so into myself that I don’t spend enough time with other people… but I always think the worst of myself.
Is it odd that I’m so comfortable being alone? I like to just sit and listen to music and think, or read, or write. Am I half way to wearing a trench coat and skulking around the neighbourhood park? Isn’t that way loners do?
I’d love some feedback on my black sheep behaviour.