Exile

When you live alone long enough, alone is no longer synonymous with lonely. After a while, you fill up the space. With your voice. With your scent. With your music. With your stuff.

You learn to sleep spooning your books and your laptop. Sometimes you eat nuetlla out of the jar and drink iced tea from the bottle, and call it dinner. When you’re having a bad day, you’ll vent to your cat, who will listen intently and lick your toes without irritating you further by offering well intentioned but impractical advice.

When you live alone long enough, you learn how to share yourself or sequester yourself as needed and on your own terms. You learn when to let people in, and most importantly, you learn when to triple lock the door and pretend no one’s home.

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