The Most Wonderful Time of the Year...?

This Christmas is a very odd one.  It's the first one without Dad.  It has crept up on me because I only went back to work after about four months on sick leave two weeks before, so hadn't been out and about noticing all the Christmas lights, decorations and build-up begin.

On Saturday, Mum, Big Sis, Bro-in-Law and I went to a Christmas sing-a-long concert at the Royal Albert Hall.  I was feeling decidedly unfestive when we arrived.  But it ended up being good fun and made me feel a little bit more Christmassy than I had been.  Mum had a voucher for dinner at the Hilton, so we went there afterwards and had a nice dinner in the Hawaiian-themed restaurant.  The fruit cocktails were lovely, I would  love to go there another time and have some of the rum ones!  After the meal, we went home and I threw some stuff into a bag so I could go back with Mum to hers.  That's when I found out that Big Sis and Bro-in-Law weren't going to Mum's for Christmas.

My family has never made a huge fuss over Christmas, but we've always at least had a gathering and lunch or dinner together.  It's become notably less and less important in recent years, which I think is a shame.  I really dislike how commercial Christmas has become and how irrelevant half of the things people worry about are.  But I like the fact that we have one day where everything stops, shops are closed and people are encouraged to get together, spend time in each other's company, watch old films and fun TV, have a nice meal as a family/group and buy each other gifts if they so wish to.  This year, Mum said that Big Sis and Bro-in-Law weren't obliged to come, partly because Big Sis has been spending time with Mum and they also went away to Lanzarote for a week a couple of weeks ago, and she thought she needed to spend some time with her husband!  That's the benefit of being legally bound to another.  Us singletons don't get a free pass to spend time alone, or with friends.

Basically, today has been a non-day, highlighted by the fact that everyone else is talking about their gatherings and Christmas dinners and presents and so on.  Today I have sat on the sofa since 11am, watching TV.  Mum has been sat in the armchair next to me doing the same.  I've intermittently been on my laptop, her on her iPad.  We haven't spoken all that much.  We don't often want to watch the same things, although I don't mind some of the things she puts on.  I felt like going upstairs to read or watch things online, but it felt a bit rude.  There were no presents, no special meal.  There are no Christmas decorations up.  Everything just feels empty and dead.  Now and then either or both of us would be crying, but not really acknowledging it in the other person.

I have retreated into my shell again, not talking to people because it's easier to hold things in and deal with them on my own than open up and not be understood.  Mum frequently makes comments about losing a spouse being much worse and more intense than losing a parent.  While I agree that is true to a degree, it feels like she has a monopoly on grief.  Every now and then she says the same things about how she feels, her own guilt, her own 'if onlys', etc.  I want to listen and reassure her, but it feels like a broken record.  I don't have enough emotional energy of my own to tell her it's OK.  Going over what we could have done differently doesn't help me in my own grieving process.  It's personal to her, as a wife, as a nurse, as my Dad's full-time carer for 18 months.  I want to remember the positive things about my Dad, the good memories I have.  Mum says she keeps having to remember how he was at the end, almost to reassure her that it was the right time for him to die, that he was unwell, weak and uncomfortable.  I had already accepted that my Dad was going to die.  His existence as a fraction of the human being he was made me feel uncomfortable and upset.  It still hurt so much when he died, but I can't deny the part of me that was relieved that his suffering and also my Mum's non-stop effort with caring had come to an end.  Part of my Mum's grief is occasionally going over what more she could have done, which is very specific to her.  I can't imagine dealing with the loss of someone who was your companion for 31 years.  But I know what it's like to lose my father of 30 years and it's painful.  Hypothetically, my Mum could find another companion.  But I can't find a new father.  I may find a new father figure, I may have a father-in-law some day, but the father who raised me, whose DNA makes up my own, whose character and influence moulded me into who I am today, that can't be replaced.

I feel like now my Dad has gone, I've lost an ally.  The family dynamic has changed.  My Mum and Big Sis have got more and more alike in recent years.  It's only now that Dad has passed away that I feel like a third wheel at times.  I liked similar things to my Dad.  I think I'm probably a bit more cynical, more realistic/negative, less religious, less strong in faith - all things my Dad was in some ways.  I frequently feel like I'm the odd one out in my family now.  It's something I never expected, probably because I never noticed it before, because Dad was always there to balance things out.

Today, I've felt more and more sad as the day has gone on.  It's the first time since immediately after my Dad died that I've really felt like crying and have done so.  I've felt pangs of jealousy at people who are having traditional Christmas family get-togethers.  I've felt resentful of people who are moaning about things they could probably be a little more grateful for.  I've felt isolated, lonely and misunderstood.  I've felt loss twice over - the loss of my Dad, and the loss of Samson, who I could always go to when I felt sad, even if I didn't know the reason.  I've felt lost and even more sad because finding that kind of understanding in a person is relatively uncommon.  Building up that sort of trust, where I'd feel comfortable enough to talk to someone when I feel low, takes time.  I fear I won't find it again.  Or more likely, that I won't trust enough again to open up sufficiently to develop that kind of relationship.  It just feels like no-one understands.  I have hardly any appetite at the moment.  I'm having one meal and a snack a day.  I have no money again and only got paid five days ago.  There just never seems to be an end to this perpetual cycle of sadness at the moment.

It feels like as I get older, birthdays and Christmas just highlight all my sadness even more.  I think this is part of why I want to settle down, find someone who is my partner for life, who is with me against the world, and start my own family.  So I can start my own traditions, have my own celebrations, do things in a way that will make me happy.  I'm fed up of being the reliable, go-to person for my family to rely on to go along with what they want, because I'm too emotionally retarded to be able to say no.  I'm fed up of being someone who people come to for advice, when they are feeling down or in need of reassurance, when they need someone to be there, but not being able to support me in my own times of sadness.  This is what happens when you get used to holding your own feelings back and putting on your 'strong' face for the world.  Even those closest to you can't tell the difference between the mask and your real face anymore.  You can't let the barriers down even when you want to.

Under the Bridge

"Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner;
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the page that I write on, the page holds my feelings,
Lonely as I am, together we cry."

So, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers spoke some words I can relate to, even if they were talking about drug use and I had to adapt it a little to my own situation with a lyrical tweak or two.

Most of the day I had been feeling okay. I mean, I wasn't bursting with joy, but I was fairly content and felt able to get on through the day, even if I didn't feel much like talking. I had lunch with Samson and felt happy in his company, the way I always do, but when hometime rolled around, all of a sudden I was feeling a little irate and uncomfortable and discontent, feeling the need to both lash out and be alone. I didn't feel much like being affectionate with Samson as we walked to the station and I felt awkward. It wasn't even because I didn't want to hold his hand or be close to him. I felt the opposite, in fact. But still, at random times, I seem to have an emotional conflict between how I feel versus what I know, or have known. I almost want to reject him because I feel vulnerable and don't want to go with my need to feel close to him and thus risk rejection. I wish I didn't still feel this way, even if it is only intermittent. I wish I didn't have erratic moods, which seem to swing from silent to over-excited and blissful to sullen in a matter of hours. I particularly dislike the fact that it seems to happen most when I am alone, when I am left to brood and my mind is free to wander over all the harsh and desolate landscapes it has ever foolishly stumbled across. I really want my mind to be free; I need to cut the ties that link innocent thoughts to bad experiences. Samson has said that he knows he can't erase all of my bad memories or difficult experiences, but he wants to give me new, happier memories, that will somehow make the others fade away, into the background at least, or to lessen their effect. He is a sweetheart for wanting to, but I am still somewhat wary of letting him.

I know there is no shame in relying on other people when you need support, or of needing people emotionally and valuing the presence of such relationships in one's life. But since I realised I was depressed, I have sometimes felt helpless and have felt myself wanting to resist against the necessity of relying on others. I don't enjoy feeling like I am a burden on anyone else emotionally, I don't like the fact that I can't always just handle the emotions myself, I don't like feeling emotionally weak and I don't like the sense of dependence that comes with it. I suppose I have the streak of stubborn independence that seemingly runs in my family. But also, I remember the feeling of being in a dependent relationship and how unhealthy it was, even though it was completely dissimilar to both the dynamic I have with Samson and the condition in which I now find myself. I also remember the feeling of having someone who allowed me to depend on them, who encouraged me to, who said they wanted to be there for me, but whose promises were empty in practice. I remember the feeling of thinking I had finally found someone I could rely on, someone who understood me, someone who was emotionally intuitive, someone who could relate to some of my previous experiences and didn't want to repeat them. I remember allowing myself to open up completely, to be free and profound with my emotions, only to be left in what felt like the emotional equivalent of being naked and lost in the middle of nowhere. Hmm, when I put it like this, I'm not surprised I have problems with allowing myself to get as close to and as trusting with Samson as I genuinely want to.

I am not purposely holding back and I am not playing games to avoid getting hurt. For the most part, things just flow, we just take each day at a time and enjoy each other's company. But the fear comes at intervals, often creeping into my subconscious until I am feeling the desire to back away without knowing what has triggered it. After Samson saw me onto the train, I rushed to get home. I spoke to Big Sis when I got in and we ate dinner together with Bro-in-Law, before watching some perfect trash telly to distract us. But when I left to go to my room, the empty, lonely feeling came back and I felt very alone. I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to, even though I know that is untrue. I wanted some reassurance from Samson, but still feel stupid having to ask for his attention, even though he would probably never see it that way. I think my bad experiences with NY Guy's regular lack of response or difficulty to get hold of have given me an aversion to having to initiate contact in any way. I still find it hard to reach out, even when I really need to, even to my friends and family. I sat here for a while, feeling extremely lonely and rather sad, exacerbated by the fact that I didn't feel able to call or text anyone to talk about it. It's not even because I don't have anyone to talk to, because I know I do, but I find it hard to admit needing someone to talk to and not being able to handle things myself. I am used to being there for others and trying to be supportive and comforting and a good listener. But I've realised I don't find it at all easy allowing someone to do that for me. At the time, it helps to talk to someone, but afterwards sometimes, I feel silly, exposed and vulnerable.

For a while, I just sat there, pondering what to do to make myself feel better and feeling helpless. I felt bored with life, wanting to just switch off for a while and not have to deal with the lonely feeling. Then, for the first time in several weeks, I really wanted to write a blog. I haven't had the same need or desire to write lately, but I suddenly remembered that need for an outlet, for catharsis on my own terms, in my own time, in a way that I can both control and release, with the option of sharing it or not. The page helps me to make sense of things, to collate, compose and examine my thoughts, laying the fragmented pieces out in a single place so that I can get a little distance and start to see the picture they form from afar. I have always been better at writing, at expressing myself in prose rather than the spoken word. But then, I think I have also always been better at feeling and thinking rather than doing and I think that's part of my problem. I am trying to get better at expressing, at speaking, at sharing, at doing, at living. I need my words to start jumping off the page and becoming reality. But at least I know that if no-one else, I always have the page.

Words That Say Nothing At All

I was tucked up in bed, granny-blanketed and Night Nursed-up by 11.00pm last night. I had spoken to The Mrs for a little while, who by her own admission was in a mood, but still managed to make me laugh. I was feeling quite exhausted from the past week and in need of an early night. My body was relaxed, but my mind was far from it. I was feeling really low, on the verge of tears and almost wishing I could just fall sleep and not wake up, at least for a good while. I wrestled with the overwhelming sense of discontent and tried to ignore it enough so that I could just sleep. Lolly texted me after going to a comedy show with some friends, so we texted back and forth a few times as she prepares to head off to The People's Preferred Choice of China (aka Hong Kong, don't ask why we call it this) today.

Sometime after 11.00, I was still lying awake, unable to settle and feeling incredibly low and restless. I prayed a little and then decided to send a text. Which side of the Atlantic are you on? I pressed send. I knew which side of the Atlantic he was on. I also knew that despite feeling that he had made little effort to contact me, I was still incapable of just leaving him to his own devices. I waited for the received report, but it never came and I drifted off to sleep. My phone buzzed and woke me up at 1.41am. I know it's late but I would love to see you soon if you still want...sorry if I woke you. I check my sent messages. Inexplicably, my earlier text hasn't gone through. I find it a bizarre coincidence that it appears he didn't receive my text, but decides to message me the same night. I also wonder what made him do so at such an hour. Maybe he'd been out with some workmates and was having an alcohol-induced weak moment. I don't know what his motivation would be, otherwise. I text back. You did. Did you get my text earlier? If not, that's a little freaky. What's up with the time? Can't sleep? I drift back to sleep, but there is no reply in any case. I don't get him. I have been wondering if I should get this meeting in person out of the way, while I am feeling more militant than usual. I'm still not sure though. It still upsets and irritates me that he sends little snippets to get under my skin, then disappears again when I respond. Is he playing games or is just really that unreliable? I can't quite work it out.

I have the usual weird dreams and wake in the middle of the night, once again in a cold sweat and feeling freezing, even though I have long-sleeved pyjamas on, an extra granny blanket over my duvet and the window only open a crack. I am awoken by my alarm at 7.30am, but can't get up. Big Sis sends a text to tell me she is on her way, just after 8.30am. I get up closer to 9am, when Mum calls and stumble into the bathroom, baulking at how big my hair has got overnight and feeling stuffy-headed and achey. I have a long, hot shower and get dressed and ready, before going downstairs to get some breakfast. Before dressing, I weigh myself and am impressed by the couple of pounds or so I have gained this week, thanks to my newly-acquired greedy-guts status.

I am feeling a little better emotionally than the night before, but nothing is really any clearer or better understood. Later that day, in early evening, I text him again. Why did you send a text then not reply? You say you want to meet up but then you don't contact me. I don't get it. What are you up to tomorrow? I hate this back-and-forth business. I want to get the meeting up out of the way. I don't hold out hope for a quick response, but one comes a little later. I passed out, I was drinking last night...sorry. I'm going to Paris right now with friends from work, won't get back til late tomorrow but if you want to meet up this week that would be great. As I suspected. An alcohol-fuelled initiation of contact. How terribly predictable. We text back and forth a little but it's just chit-chat. He isn't especially expressive by text anyway. I am often confused by his effort to text just one word, like 'Haha' or 'Lol.' I am confused by my seeming compulsion to text back regardless. The conversation tails off and I don't reply. I still don't understand why he is allegedly still bothered to see me. I still don't even believe he really is bothered about seeing me. What I do know is that he is incredibly self-sufficient and proud. And I am incredibly low in self-esteem and weak.

Positives and Negatives

I am currently a bit of a snot monster. My eyes ache. My throat is sore. My tummy is weird. My hair hurts. But I'm actually still in a relatively good mood. I've spoken quite animatedly this evening, which probably hasn't helped the throat problem, but I had a good chit-chat with the 'rents.

I am really looking forward to Sabbath tomorrow. We are meeting with our small group again at the community hall across the road from the rents' house and are probably going to have lunch here afterwards. I'm looking forward to the worship within a small-group setting and seeing the new friends we have made, including my three little chums who are a constant source of amusement for me. My favourite comment they gave me at our last meeting? "That was your dress last time. Did you wash it?" Don't you just love kids? Lol! I am hoping that I feel a bit better and that my snot-tasticness doesn't dampen my spirits (or anything else for that matter).

I called The Mrs. on the way home to wish her a happy birthday in 'person' and then sipped a yummy hot chocolate the rest of the journey. I was steadily feeling more and more tired and couldn't wait to get home. Things are actually OK right now on the whole, but now and then, when I have a moment without a distraction, a moment where my mind is not otherwise occupied, a moment to think, I think of BFTP. I didn't realise quite how hard I would find this. What is most difficult is not having any idea of where I stand, of what he is thinking and feeling or even just how life is for him at the moment. I don't really know what to do, because I don't know how he views this break in contact. If it is a permanent break that he has no intention of returning from, then I really need to know that, so I can come to terms with it and try to get over it and move on, however hard, painful and disappointing that may be. I hate being left in a state of the unknown, in limbo, in uncharted territory without a map.

I am fighting against the natural reaction of confusion, anger, hurt, loneliness, disappointment and retaliation by trying to be understanding and patient, but there is the fear at the back of my mind that in doing this, if we get back in contact, I will be taken for granted, the way I have been by other people in the past. I've done the whole, "I understand, I know where you're coming from, you hurt me but I can appreciate the reasons for you doing this," thing before and it got me nowhere, other than stranded in Mug Town on the outskirts of Resentmentville. What gets to me most is when people make promises or pledges from their own initiative, without any coercion, pressure or sense of obligation from me, but then still don't follow through on their own word. BFTP promised he wouldn't disappear on me again, the way he had done back in the day, even though I hadn't made that any sort of prerequisite for us being in contact again. He took it upon himself to make that promise unprompted, but he has seemingly chosen to break the very word he chose to give. I didn't ask him to promise me that, but he did, so I put my trust in that promise. I should know better than to do this by now.

I suppose that this time, at least, he informed me that he needed time to himself, rather than just disappearing off the radar without any explanation at all. But that makes it no easier. I'm not any the wiser just because he told me that. It's not any easier to deal with, it doesn't make it feel any less like a rejection and it doesn't give me any greater hope that we'll get back in touch any time soon. I know I shouldn't have let my mind wander over this subject again. It doesn't seem to matter how many positive things happen, as soon as I remember the fact that BFTP has chosen to essentially cut me out of his life, temporarily or otherwise, it seems to cancel out any of the good things. Anything exciting or pleasant that happens is made slightly less exciting or pleasant by the knowledge that I can't share any of it with BFTP. I wonder if my BFTP has just gone back to being where he'd been for the past ten years - the past.

Turn the Lights Off When You Leave

This week, I seem to be in the habit of reaching to switch the lights off whenever I leave a room. I seem to do it without even thinking, regardless of whether there is another person still in that room. I keep catching myself reaching for the switch and smile. I'm not sure why I'm in this habit. I don't tend to leave lights on unnecessarily and am somewhat conscious about saving energy, but this week it seems to be an especially robotic reaction.

I am desperately missing BFTP at the moment and it got me thinking about him. Whether he intended to or not, when he decided to halt contact in order to deal with his problems on his own, he turned the light out on me when he left. It might sound a little dramatic, and I wish that I was exaggerating, but right now, it's exactly how it feels. Since we've not been in contact I have felt utterly miserable. I am finding it hard to see hope, light or anything good at the end of this tunnel. I have felt lost. I have felt incredibly lonely. I have started feeling desperately low again. I have been on the verge of tears much more often than I should be. I can't even explain this feeling. I honestly feel like a part of me has deteriorated and disappeared.

I texted him last night, against my better judgement, but perhaps out of sheer desperation. I am curious to know whether his withdrawal is genuinely helping him to feel better and enabling him to deal with his problems more effectively. I hope for his sake that it is, but hope for my sake that it is not. If he is finding it easier being out of contact with me, then I'm not sure how I'll feel. It will hurt a little, but most of all it will make me wonder what my problem is. If he's getting by fine, then what the hell has happened to me? I should be able to get on with my life and function normally, shouldn't I? It has barely been a week and I'm on the verge of some kind of breakdown. I don't know if it's the absence of BFTP specifically, the absence of a man I am close to, or the pain of rejection I feel at being held at bay by someone I care about and the negative flashbacks it gives me to similar situations with NY Guy. I think it's a combination of all of those feelings, but mostly, I just miss BFTP because he's an amazing person. He became such a positive influence in my life and one that challenged, motivated, encouraged and strengthened me.

All I had suggested was that we slow things down a little so that they weren't so intense, knowing that we both still have huge vulnerabilities and each have a tendency to wear our hearts on our sleeves and let our feelings run away with us. I was trying to protect the both of us, but I never intended that our contact should just stop overnight. To have such a stark difference in contact enforced on me so quickly is really hard to accept. We were having daily contact, even if it was just doing our morning devotional together or exchanging a text or two throughout the day, but it was literally enabling me to face each day and get through it feeling relatively positive. Right now, it's almost a struggle just being awake, just existing through each day. I feel utterly miserable and I don't know how to get out of it. I feel like I've been set back about 6 months. Right now, I am just sitting here in the dark, wondering how on earth I'm going to turn the lights back on.

Enforced Loneliness

I am on the verge of tears. I haven't felt this lonely in quite a while. The brief respite I had felt for not quite a month seems to be fading into a very foggy memory. I am slipping back into sadness. I know that I am probably hormonal and that maybe I'm tired and that in a few days I'll probably look back and laugh at my amateur dramatics, but right now I just don't see the point of anything. I am finding it hard to be positive and my sarcasm is back with a vengeance. I know that part of BFTP's problem is that he has and has had so many people that rely heavily on him, emotionally and otherwise. I know that what he needs right now is some me-time and that is a reasonable, warranted and much-deserved request. I know that the last thing he needs is the sense that there is someone else who needs him, another person who is relying on him, another person to make him obliged to be there for them and make him feel guilty if he can't or won't be. I don't want to be that kind of person. I'm not going to be. It's not like I'll contact him and chastise him for shutting me out. I don't even feel that way. But this feeling of frustration at not being able to get through to someone because they are actively avoiding contact with me, is all too familiar, and uncomfortably so. I find it hard not to feel hurt by it and it makes me feel incredibly lonely. I don't even really want him to know I feel this way, because I don't want him to feel guilty for doing what is currently best for him. I just can't help how I feel. I am reassuring myself with the thought that it's doubtful he'll read this any time soon, since he currently has no internet connection. Plus, I don't want to start censoring my thoughts just because he knows where to access them. I can't really help it if he decides to read this and consequently comes across something he doesn't like reading. The problem is that since I don't have the option of talking to him about this, my only real outlet is in writing about it here.

The New Boy

I browsed in Boots for a while, as I waited for the Mrs. and her new Boy to arrive. I got preoccupied looking at lipgloss and various random cosmetics, when I felt someone next to me say "Hello little one." I looked around and there she was, kitted out in the new boots that he had bought her the other day, adding another couple of inches to the six she already has on me. Her Boy was next to her, also tall but without the aid of heels and I suddenly felt even more of a munchkin than usual. "Hello," I said, looking up at them and smiling, "I had forgotten what tall people looked like. I feel like the shortest person in the world." We hugged and said our hellos and then we made our way out to go and get some food. They are a cute couple. They were affectionate and sweet together and I liked how comfortable they seemed with each other. I tried not to think about how much I already missed BFTP and tried not to feel like the gooseberry. But they didn't make me feel that way. The Mrs. and I went to order the food while her Mr. grabbed us a table. Once we had the food, we carried it outside and then swiftly decided against our original plan of al fresco dining, when half the napkins and the straws I had picked up blew away with a sudden gust of wind.

Back inside, we were lucky to get a corner booth and settled in to eat our meals. We talked about things and laughed, and they sang along to random tunes that played over the speaker system. I could feel that I wasn't sterling company; my mood had really dropped because of the situation with BFTP and although I enjoyed being with them, I was finding it hard to make conversation or get my mind off the things that were bothering me. We still had fun and the Mrs. asked me about the stuff that was happening and I did the same, although it was hard for her to give a completely honest account of things with her Boy sitting there. He was very laid back and I could feel there was a genuine fondness between them. I liked that. I felt comfortable in their company, just not so comfortable in my own. The Mrs. chastised her Mr. for stealing her use of the word 'munchkin,' which apparently she patented back in the 30s, prior to The Wizard of Oz. My munchkin status was a running joke throughout the day and for a while it felt like we were teenagers again, spending days out and about, without a care in the world. It was a short break from everything else that was going on.

The Boy went out to smoke a cigarette and I watched the Mrs. as her eyes followed him out and a smile played on her lips. "You love him," I teased. I smiled at how content they seem, even though based on her previous bad experiences she is convinced that things are going to go wrong, and is inclined to pre-empt any such result by breaking up with him, which he is well aware of. We talked about it until he came back and then went all quiet when he returned. He smiled at us and said "You can keep talking you know, I know what you're talking about." I tried to convince the Mrs. against any pre-emptive break-up and she chastised me jokingly for not taking her side. We talked some more and giggled away 3 hours before finally deciding to make moves, after her Boy had made several paper people chains out of the excess napkins I had snaffled and then made a 'sculpture' out of our used cups and straws. He took a quick snap of the Mrs. and me that will probably end up on my wall somewhere.

Before our respective journeys home, we went to make a quick bathroom break for a travel wee (lol), my complete lack of cash meaning I didn't even have the 30p required entrance fee. The Mrs. cobbled together some change in pity of my broke ass, but when we got to the turnstiles, we didn't have the right coins for me, so I somehow squeezed through the turnstile with her on her 30p. Apparently there are some advantages to being little. Afterwards, we meet outside to say our goodbyes. The Boy asks for a spare pen to do the daily sudoku from the paper on the train. I give the Mrs. a big hug and we express how great it was to see each other again. I hug her Boy and we say how nice it was to meet, even though for some reason I felt like I'd already met him. He tells me to take care and I assure them I won't fall down any cracks in the pavement on my way home. We laugh and go our separate ways. It has been a nice afternoon, but as soon as I am out of their company, I realise how alone I am starting to feel.