I so love solitude, the sound only of the refrigerator, my own breathing, the cat purring, eating, digging in the litter box, occasionally my neighbors' lawnmowers. Solitude is where I can hear my own voice, figure out what it's really saying.....
Ah, crap. I'm trying to be too poetic.
Here's a truth I just need to say: Today and yesterday, I felt so lonely that I turned on the Food Network and then the Learning Channel (Oh Lord, I watched Say Yes to the Dress) just so I could hear other people who are totally not like me talking into my living room.
I haven't been lonely (except for a few years in the late '90s and the aughts when my then little daughter suggested I was lonely for my lost self) since about 1987.
I have to admit that I'm lonely for my friend Laura who moved cross-country to Seattle starting June 28. Two cats in her car. The trip was kind of hard (Yes, I'm singing "Our House" in my head as I type). We've been friends for twenty years, spoken at least once a week, more recently connected almost daily.
She's going to have a wonderful life - bookstores, coffee shops, art classes, maybe a cool, low-maintenance condo.
But I think maybe she took all the air with her when she left.
There. That is all.