A new home. A new schedule.
New Faces. New Routines.
Old Feelings. Old Habits. No, not really.
Last Sunday, the NFL Conference Championships are on in 20 minutes and I sit on my bed, laptop on and a four year, is pointing to the screen. "Put the green one there," she says. I smile, and click the green piece and slide it over the where she asked. Click. She's right. We finish the puzzle and she begins to clap. I smile. She hugs me and tells me she loves me.
The little girl is the granddaughter of my new roommates/landlord. It's only the second time I've met her, but she's been here the entire weekend. Sports is the furthest thing from my mind. A few minutes go by and she and her two-year-old brother sit on my bed, drinking milk and eating cookies. Crumbs fall all over and they laugh when I tell them I'll get in trouble with the poppas. Oh yes, my roommates/landlords are a two men, married to each other. Every two weeks, the kids come for a visit. It's a welcome change. So I sit, watching these two children get ready to leave. We say our goodbyes and I return to my room, realizing I've missed all of the first quarter of one of the biggest games of the year. At that moment, I'm fine with this.
Three years ago, I'd have been at the bar since 1PM, convincing myself I needed to drink for three hours to save my seat. I'd sit with a bunch of friends, acquaintances, fellow fans and watch the seven hours of football, get drunk, scream, laugh and maybe, if lucky, win a pool. It always felt like life. It doesn't now. That was 10 of the last 13 years, maybe more. The last three, Sundays have been spent in solitude, with many being void of football. Movies have become my life, but that's where this title comes in. I've watched five movies in 2017. Normally, but this time of the month, I'd be on movie 25 or 30. My head is just not into it. It's not into anything really.
I'll skip the political distractions, although they're mighty. I've felt insecurity recently and I'm realizing that all those scientists, philosophers and lawmakers we calling (Founding) Fathers were right. We all have basic needs that must be met if we are to assimilate into "normal" creatures. I once thought I was a normal creature, but I realize now, I just found others like me, who hadn't really found that thing they needed. I'm alone now, even with the occasional laughter of children or the hello and goodbye of my housemates. I sit alone. I eat alone. I think alone. I sleep alone. I do everything alone. With the exception of my cat, Swag, whom I've come to realize is more in tune with my emotions that any human I've ever known, I'm alone. I'm not complaining really, because I've always gravitated towards a certain level of solitude, but there's a catch. I hope some philosopher has said it better and feel free to share any that have, but I've come to realize one great secret of life..
Loneliness is simply solitude, we haven't chosen on our own terms.
New Faces. New Routines.
Old Feelings. Old Habits. No, not really.
Last Sunday, the NFL Conference Championships are on in 20 minutes and I sit on my bed, laptop on and a four year, is pointing to the screen. "Put the green one there," she says. I smile, and click the green piece and slide it over the where she asked. Click. She's right. We finish the puzzle and she begins to clap. I smile. She hugs me and tells me she loves me.
The little girl is the granddaughter of my new roommates/landlord. It's only the second time I've met her, but she's been here the entire weekend. Sports is the furthest thing from my mind. A few minutes go by and she and her two-year-old brother sit on my bed, drinking milk and eating cookies. Crumbs fall all over and they laugh when I tell them I'll get in trouble with the poppas. Oh yes, my roommates/landlords are a two men, married to each other. Every two weeks, the kids come for a visit. It's a welcome change. So I sit, watching these two children get ready to leave. We say our goodbyes and I return to my room, realizing I've missed all of the first quarter of one of the biggest games of the year. At that moment, I'm fine with this.
Three years ago, I'd have been at the bar since 1PM, convincing myself I needed to drink for three hours to save my seat. I'd sit with a bunch of friends, acquaintances, fellow fans and watch the seven hours of football, get drunk, scream, laugh and maybe, if lucky, win a pool. It always felt like life. It doesn't now. That was 10 of the last 13 years, maybe more. The last three, Sundays have been spent in solitude, with many being void of football. Movies have become my life, but that's where this title comes in. I've watched five movies in 2017. Normally, but this time of the month, I'd be on movie 25 or 30. My head is just not into it. It's not into anything really.
I'll skip the political distractions, although they're mighty. I've felt insecurity recently and I'm realizing that all those scientists, philosophers and lawmakers we calling (Founding) Fathers were right. We all have basic needs that must be met if we are to assimilate into "normal" creatures. I once thought I was a normal creature, but I realize now, I just found others like me, who hadn't really found that thing they needed. I'm alone now, even with the occasional laughter of children or the hello and goodbye of my housemates. I sit alone. I eat alone. I think alone. I sleep alone. I do everything alone. With the exception of my cat, Swag, whom I've come to realize is more in tune with my emotions that any human I've ever known, I'm alone. I'm not complaining really, because I've always gravitated towards a certain level of solitude, but there's a catch. I hope some philosopher has said it better and feel free to share any that have, but I've come to realize one great secret of life..
Loneliness is simply solitude, we haven't chosen on our own terms.
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