Not a Moment Alone
I am an introvert. Completely and happily so. I like time to myself, I prefer activities that include either only me or me and my husband. I read, play video games, write, and even work from home. My family constantly comments on how unhealthy it is for me to be alone so much. My husband comes home everyday around supper, but they seem to think that that is still too much time alone. Away from people and crowds, and office drama.
I have tried to tell them hundreds of times that, really, I’m never alone. When I read, I usually have a golden colored rug at my feet, a grey scarf behind my head, and a white and black blanket across my lap. When I make lunch, I always have someone to share with. When I take a shower, there’s always someone there to keep the bath mat warm. When I sleep, there are at least two live heaters on the bed keeping my legs warm. My boys go where I go. They wake up with me in the morning all energy and excitement. They are genuinely happy to see my every single day. They find something to do in every room they follow me into, from lounging on the couches to trying to eat the plants I’ve started for my garden.
My boys, they are always there. Always ready to play, nap, eat, or to “wing”—”winging” involves tearing around the yard or house at full speed, like a maniac. I get to laugh countless times a day, just by observing their antics. They believe the vacuum is a great monster trying to kill their toys. They make camp in my office during the day. They bring me things (not always good things). They are sneaky when bad and always come out of hiding when they hear the fridge open. They don’t complain, they don’t judge, they don’t say stupid things. They are just there, all the time.
They aren’t like people, but they are more than enough for me. Sometimes, simplistic, obvious, laughter is better than any human conversation. Sometimes, being able to look like crap and to have them love you anyway is better than getting dressed up for work. And when I say, “let’s go read a book”, and they follow me and plop down around me, it’s better than any meditation or relaxation method in the book.
My boys are there, no matter what day or time. They investigate every strange noise, let me know when someone is at the door, and have become my irreplaceable companions in everything. I never feel alone, and I never feel that I am lacking in socialization. They are my buddies, my heaters, my responsibilities, and my family. I feel lucky to be able to spend my days with them and to have the opportunity to have their snores as my background music.
I am never alone. I am never unhappy. I am never bored. I always feel loved and important. To me, at least, their company is better than most human company. I live without drama, stupidity, annoyance, and even stress. It’s a good feeling, and I am glad to have it. I am definitely, irrefutably, a dog person.