why not make soup with your best friend

i’m the one who stares inside homes when it’s nighttime and the light lets me see in as i walk by. i’m obsessed with families, friends, and gatherings, i think it’s sweet when i see someone at the kitchen sink or the backs of heads watching something on a tv screen.

it is equally easy to feel both happy and sad peering inside warm homes, and during the holidays, i find myself wondering who is visiting and who lives where year round. mindless guessing games and making up stories to fill thinking space.

living alone was something i wanted - a testament i can take care of myself on my own. growing up i (inadvertently, sure) learned having someone was a means to an end - a necessity. as a result, i have always placed importance on independence - to prove people are not a survival mechanism.

i am older now, of course, and seeking balance on a daily basis. i live alone and i am capable, yes, but i like having my boyfriend’s sweater hanging inside my closet. i like seeing two coffee cups on my counter, i like hearing the sound of someone else occupying my safe spaces. i like planning dinners with friends, something i could do alone, sure, but why not make soup with your best friend on a wednesday night? yes, i might sit with you on my phone in front of a tv screen, but better together than alone, the saying goes.

i’m finding that sometimes we run away, only to lean right back in to the thing we were avoiding - and for me, that was vulnerability + opening myself up to people on a regular basis. maybe i’m realizing i could use a bit more of that.

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