It has been two and a half years since my husband died, and it still gave me a pang walking into the Home Depot store yesterday. We used to go there often. My husband and I.
Being surrounded by all the people who were at the store and looking for things that I needed to get, I got lonely. I hurriedly left the store after grabbing and paying for WD-40 cans at the self-check out. I needed to get something else, but didn’t feel like walking around or asking for help.
The feeling of loneliness overwhelms me when I reminisce about our life.
For the very first time, I am living by myself, alone. I met my husband just when I was starting to get my place and settle for my life, and soon became a wife. Before that, I was the oldest sister to my siblings and a daughter to my parents. I still am but haven’t had to live up to the status every day.
When I left my last job, for the first couple of weeks, I felt agitated. Workplaces and schools automatically give you places of socializing. When I lost that, I panicked. Only moving beings around me were my two dogs.
Though my dogs give me the sense of companionship and unconditional love (and, yes, they do try so hard to understand when I talk to them), I miss the company, laughs and talks. There are so many unknowns ahead and around. And, I have nobody to talk to or to consult with. All decisions depend on me.
I am getting used to being alone by now. I do get lonely, but am comfortable.
Can somebody get addicted to a solitude?
I just need to empower myself not to become a crazy, anti-social, unkempt, middle-aged lady in the jungle…
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cut Off.”
“When was the last time you felt really, truly lonely?”