I'm sitting in my family room soaking up the quiet. It's snowing outside. I have water sounds playing full blast inside. I'm contemplating another cup of coffee (with cream). The house is empty except for me.
It has occurred to me (once again), that I love being alone. The solitude that I am gifted every day when my kids go off to school is deeply treasured. And quite frankly, never feels like enough.
Now I'm sure that if I wasn't surrounded by so much love, I wouldn't crave the solitude. I would feel lonely. I know that. But I have a child that needs so much attention when she's home that it creates an inability to reliably get anything done. Or relax. This seems to translate into a craving for alone time. Lots and lots and lots of alone time.
Please don't get me wrong. I love spending time with my loved ones. I really do. But I also love being alone.
I wonder if I will ever get enough. And when I do, if it'll be too much because someone I love is gone. Someone I depend on.
My solitude is treasured because it is limited. I'm not sure it would be treasured if it was forced. Not that I want to find out. I don't. Nope.
But right now? The solitude is sweet. Damned sweet.