Thrill-a-Minute

I hadn't anticipated the boredom.

Sadness I expected. Loneliness? Yup. Longing? Check. Those I knew would be coming. But what's been most striking in the past week is how bland my days have become.

For years, many spent in long-distance relationships, I was used to being on my own much of the time. Aside from work, social outings, and time with friends, I was alone. I ate dinner alone, watched movies alone at home, went to sleep alone, woke up alone. It was such habit for such a long stretch that I stopped minding, even if I didn't entirely stop noticing.

Starting last summer, though, I got used to having someone else in my life every day, reliably and without fail. Even the boring stuff (like cooking dinner) was more interesting when I didn't have to do it solo. And the fun stuff, of course, was off the damn charts.

So now that's the yawning hole. I can't possibly fill my days and evenings enough to avoid the fact that I'm back to being a one, where for such a pleasant stretch there I was a two. And though this is straight out of some terrible Lifetime movie, I've been laughing so much less lately, not because my outlook has turned maudlin, but because the person who made me laugh every day is gone.

That things would go from Technicolor to slightly faded and tattered pastels. That I'd so acutely feel the shift away from having someone to turn to at the end of the day. That listlessness would move in and make itself at home. Somehow, all of these things I didn't know to expect.