Where I feel calm, familiar and even pleasant. Where no one bothers me, distracts me, demands. Where I do what I want, when I want, how I want. And it's really COOL. Until it gets a little sad.

At first, you just enjoy it. You can cook yourself a delicious dinner, have a TV series marathon until three in the morning, not remove your makeup from the bathroom and not explain why you're still in your pajamas at 2 pm 😅 It's simple. You don't have to wait for anyone, take anyone into account, don't catch someone's bad mood. You have your own air temperature, your own playlist, your own rhythm. And you're like a fish in water in this.

And then time passes. And you notice that no one has called for no reason for a long time. That you've become too lazy to put on makeup even for yourself. That you no longer buy "something for two" in the store, but always take portions - one cup, one serving, one glass. Everything for "one person". And it seems convenient. But inside, it's as if something has shrunk. As if you've accidentally built a life in which there is simply no room for anyone else.

I've become too good at coping. Too easy. Sometimes I look at myself from the outside and think - have I gotten too carried away with this independence? I don't regret that I learned to be alone. This is really important. But I don't want to GET STUCK in this. I don't want this to become my natural state, where nothing else is provided. As if I bought a one-way ticket.

I want a little living chaos again. For someone to come and put the mug in the wrong place. For someone to ask what I want for breakfast. So that it's not just my thoughts that are next to me, but another person, with his thoughts, his routine, his smell and his morning hoarseness in his voice ☕️

But at the same time, it's scary. I've set everything up so well. Can I just up and leave this quiet, solitary world? Will it turn out that I've simply forgotten how to be with someone? Or even worse, that I've become so "self-sufficient" that no one feels needed next to me?

It seems to me that this is the main trap. Not to be alone - but to learn to live so comfortably in this that later you don't want to let anyone in at all. Not because you don't love. But because you're afraid of losing control. Or the usual peace. Or yourself.

And so I sit with this thought. I'm not dramatizing, I'm not suffering, I'm just thinking. Being alone is not about the absence of someone. It's about a state. But what if this state has long ceased to be temporary?

Natasha