I love being alone. I love to wake up without anyone else around, and I can enjoy the process of starting my day. I can lay in bed for hours looking at jokes on tumblr, cuddling with my cat, and pondering all the things I have put off pondering. I can watch sunlight slowly fill the sky, and the air go from dark to light with all its shades in-between.
I don’t have to dress like someone will see me, I don’t have to make conversation, I don’t have to defend my rush or slowness to get ready. I don’t have to be productive right away. I can dance and I can sing, or I can sit in silence and feel. I make my decisions based on myself and myself alone, and feel no pressure to make them otherwise.
I love being alone, though not all the time. When I am alone too often I start to live too much within my head, I become set in ways that don’t allow for other people to be close. When I am alone most of my talking is to myself, and I begin to make up narratives about events and people that perhaps are not through, as I cannot always reason through the decisions of others.
I love being alone, but like many things I love (ice cream, cake, death defying stunts), I should not have it all the time. I just ask to spend only half my time alone, at least. That should be healthy, right?
PS: alone doesn’t count my cat, obviously.