I have never lived alone. I have never lived alone.
I was the youngest of three siblings. I have never lived alone. I always had roommates to share the fridge and the bathroom and the workspaces. I have never lived alone. There have always been the smells and sounds and sights of other people in my personal spaces. I have never lived alone. A toilet flushes, Mom cooks dinner in the kitchen, my brother screams my name. I have never lived alone.
I went from living with a roommate to moving in with a boyfriend who became a fiance who became a husband. And then we multiplied. We made two people who call my name and and ask for lunch and what’s for dinner and where are we going today and what are you doing. I have never lived alone. I try to write in the dining room where no one goes, but they find me. I have never lived alone. I write in my bedroom with the door open, and they stand and stare in silence. I have never lived alone. I buy a desk and move it to the room off the basement and shut the door, but they knock anyway. I have never lived alone. I tell them not to knock and Dad tells them not to knock and I hear their voices loudly asking where’s Mom. I have never lived alone.
Now all I want is to have a place to be alone. I want a tiny house, right next to my husband’s because I have never been alone. It will have a bathroom, a bed, a desk, a fridge for cold drinks, shelves for books and I will be alone. I also dream of soundproof walls so I can’t hear the leaf blowers and the hedgetrimmers and I can feel alone. One-way windows so no one can see if I am home and I will be alone. I don’t even need the internet or cell service. Don’t call me, I’ll call you and maybe I won’t, just so that I am all alone I’ll write my stories on pieces of lined paper and type them up later. Leave me the hell alone.
For a day. An hour. A minute. I want to write in silence and know that no one is going to call my name or turn on a TV or trim a hedge outside my window or ask what’s for dinner because I’ll be all alone. I just want to be alone. I just want to be alone. Not all the time. Just for a little while. But, goddamnit, I need to be alone.
I sympathize. This is precisely why I maintain the sleep schedule I do. While my wife doesn’t trigger this need for quiet, my father quite frequently does.
By staying up until 2-3am each night, I get a good 3-4 hours of quiet while everyone else sleeps. Naturally that means I need a nap the next day, but that gives Beth several hours of not dealing with me as well.
I wish I could split my sleep schedule, but my body doesn’t allow for it. I really need 7-8 consecutive hours or my brain starts to melt.