Living Alone

I could have been happy alone. A lot of people can't handle that, but me, I'd have been fine. I would have lived in a small apartment with minimal stuff and a cat or two. I would have made exactly the food I wanted every night and drank a lot of wine and I would have been perfectly fine. That makes me wonder why I, of all people, was lucky enough to find love early in life. There are so many people I know who are so focused on finding love, so set on marriage. To them, being alone is the worst possible thing. For me, marriage wasn't even on my radar. It just happened.

I think my marriage works because we both still get alone time. I work completely different hours than my husband does which means that I get to spend a few days with the house to myself, doing all the things I'd do if I lived alone. Its not that I don't love being married--I absolutely do, I just need my own space sometimes. I'm sure my husband feels that way too.

I think that is probably the thing that scares me the most about the prospect of having a baby--the idea that I would never again, or at least rarely for 18 or so years, have time to myself. When I need a break from the dogs on my "me days" I put them in their kennels for a bit. You can't exactly do that with a baby.

But, like with the dogs who drive me crazy half the time, I do know that it will be worth it. Ultimately I'd rather have love than be alone--love for my husband, love for a baby, and even for my pets.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I want to be alone. I'm just saying that I would have been better at it than most.