oh crap, here they come
This is not to say that I don’t enjoy the company of others, or that I don’t have genuine interest in people. I thoroughly enjoy time with friends and acquaintances alike, and I’d say that other human beings interest me more than almost anything else. I adore people watching. They are quite strange.
However, enjoying time with others as well as time alone, are not exclusive. While I like people, I need a considerable amount of time to myself. I always have, and I always will. There is a sense of overload if I’m around too many people at once or for too long. I literally require the decompression that being alone brings.
When I was 13, I had my own bedroom and my two younger sisters had to share. Because I was the oldest! Don’t judge, it’s one of the benefits of being the first pancake. Anyway, the parents realized a war was soon brewing from the younger two and decided to prevent the ensuing revolution by building a third bedroom in the basement. They sat us down expecting a fight of who was going to get stuck in the basement bedroom. The basement was of course haunted after all. No one ever wanted to be down there alone.
But no fight. I immediately called dibs on it, while my sisters said, “fine, no problem, it’s your funeral. Enjoy the poltergeists and dead indians and whatever was buried under the house.”
So, I got my own purple bedroom, with wood paneled walls and a huge book shelf. I was alone. I had a lair. Away from the rest of the family. And I couldn’t be happier.
all byyyy myyyselllfff. I wanna be...allll byyy myyyselllff
So yes, I like to be alone. I like to have my thoughts to myself, to be able to control my environment, to be the master of my domain at any given moment. I am a hair away from saying that my sanity actually hinges on my having time alone regularly.
Of course, alone time is VERY hard to come by these days. Especially when not only do I have to share a bedroom, but a bed as well. I relish the times when Mr. Cupcake travels. People ask me all the time if it’s hard to have him away. Are you fucking crazy! No way! I can lock the door, watch what I want on TV, hope the kids go to bed at a decent hour on their own. (Believe me, since the “Twilight” obsession started last year, they are used to taking care of themselves.) Drink wine, read my fanfic, find Rob Porn. It’s my own private lair again. Even if it is for only a day or two.
I need it.



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