I’ve never lived alone. Yes, it’s true I’ve been on my own, living independently for the past five years, but I have always had roommates, largely due to the high cost of living in Boston. Following college, I moved in with two friends, beginning a four- year period with as many different rooming situations. One of those years I lived with my best friend and her now-husband as they negotiated their first year living and raising a puppy together. One year was spent with a Craigslist roommate who passed entire weekends barricaded behind her bedroom door watching Friends re-runs. The last year I lived with roommates was lovely; we had a beautiful apartment not far from Harvard Square, and I often walked the tree-lined mile that separated our place from my graduate school campus. Then, Eric and I became engaged, and I moved in with him. And sometimes I wonder if I missed out on something by never having my very own apartment where I lived completely by myself.
Though sometimes, I do get a taste of all-alone living, because Eric travels quite a bit for work. This weekend in particular he was away, running the Philadelphia half-marathon and visiting with my brother. Although I love having him around and miss him terribly when he is gone…I also secretly relish having the house and my time all to myself. Yesterday, for instance, I took a trip to the mall and stayed for 6 hours, idly strolling from store to store, making pity-eyes at husbands and boyfriends held captive in the corner of Anthropologie. Last night, I made pasta and didn’t feel at all guilty leaving the dirty dishes cluttering the counter until morning. I slept in the dead center of the bed, limbs spread from corner to corner. I went to the bathroom with the door wide open. Tonight, my dinner was an old single-days favorite: broiled salmon for one. I took a walk through town today and spent an hour in the Paper Source without buying a thing. I drank tea in bed and watched the trashiest show I could think of: The Real Housewives of New Jersey Reunion, Part 3.
I am certain I would not want this to be my life all of the time, that if I lived alone I would have many moments of sad and crushing loneliness. But every once in a while, it sure is sweet to do absolutely whatever-the-hell I want.