Every night it is always the same. I come home to my cold and lonely apartment where I attempt to live life until bedtime. I always do the same things: I eat alone, I write, and then I either color or work on my scrapbook while watching a movie for the twentieth time until I can go to bed. Then, I read until I get tired.
It is always the same. Of course, it is nice and relaxing, but I am always alone. I am finished eating in ten minutes or less. It is not like I have anyone to talk to. Plus, lately, I have had little appetite. Watching movies is also not fun by yourself. I have already seen my movies and can recite them word-for-word. It is still lonely though. Then, night after night of coloring and scrapbooks gets old fast.
Most nights, in between coloring or working on my scrapbook, I check my email and phone frequently, just in case someone cares. But no one does. I do not have anyone to talk about my day.
I do not want to get married. I do need my space. I just wish I was not always expected to fill up that space by myself. Every evening, that is the expectation until bedtime. During that lonely time, I get to dwell on the thoughts of having to also return to work the next day. Teaching is not my calling and I dread having to go through another day.
It seems I am alone everywhere, literally or figuratively. I have yet to find my niche. It is very frustrating. And yet, it is my daily life. Well, I guess I had better put on another movie and get out the scrapbook. 😦