Independent Life

Not getting enough sleep really takes its toll. Getting up before you're ready does too. And I have to do that tomorrow. As in, before the sun comes up. Which I hate. I have to do the same thing on Sunday. Yuck. So I was sitting on the couch a little while ago enjoying my Ramen noodles (a recent rekindling of something I have previously eschewed, but now enjoy), and I suddenly wished he were here. As in right here. With me. Next to me. But that's not the case, obviously. So oh well, that's the way my life generally goes, more or less. Nothing there when I want it, and often when I need it.

The sad truth is that it's no fun to be independent. It's actually pretty lonely. There's no one there to support you when you're down, no one to laugh with you, or make you laugh, or share the news, or gossip. There's no one there to help you out when you need a ride to the airport or the doctor, no one to go to when your house is being torn apart from the inside in a not so quiet way. There's no one to hug you when you're happy or when you're sad, no one to push you when you're being lazy, or stop you when you work too much. No one to tell you you're right, no one to tell you you're being an ass.

It's just you. That's it. You have to figure everything out on your own and do it without help. Plan everything out to its end because no one else is going to help you with the ideas or the enaction of them. Sure, you can take a trip, but you're going by yourself and you're going to have to pay for parking because you have been saddled with the independent life. The trouble is, I never wanted the independent life. I wanted the guy that would sit on the couch and watch HBO with me, make me laugh, rub my shoulders when they hurt, and make me feel special, like I belong somewhere.