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Alone, not lonely
March 2015. Just a few days short of my 25th birthday, K and I moved to Seville. A pizza with candles and other fairytales later, responsible adult life descended on us.
Making a home out of an apartment. Laundry. Cleaning. And the biggest of them all: cooking things other than just pasta.
Over the year or so of being with K, I’ve eased into knowing, more and more, with every passing day that he is a joy to live with. In return for his helping around the house, all he needs is (super spiceless) food.
But sometime in March this year, he went away on work for 10 days and I was completely alone.
My whole entire life I’ve been surrounded by a big family and a bunch of friends. And when K and I got together, I first moved cities for him, and even then we stayed with a big family. But moving countries with him has been a whole different deal. It’s been quieter. More just...us.
"I’ll miss you", I whined, but I didn’t realise I was whining with a huge smile on my face. Secretly, I was looking forward to —for the first time in forever— being all alone.
He was hardly out the door when I packed my backpack —of course I posted a #thingsorganizedneatly picture on Instagram, wouldn’t you?! — and went away for four days, all by myself to the small coastal city of Lagos in Algarve, Portugal.
Another country? Check.
I conquered Lagos on foot all day. Then I kicked back on a beautiful, beautiful beach with a book.
I got drunk with a bunch of strangers who became friends, a few drinks down. Toppled off a kayak twice, and let the mighty Atlantic gobble up my sunglasses.
Back in Seville, I cooked and ate daal for every meal, two days in a row. I licked Glucon D to my heart’s content, without being guilt tripped by K’s concerned face. I didn't make any plans. None. Didn’t meet anyone I know.
Barring the routine 10 mins phone call with Amma, a bit of FaceTime with K, and a few texts to my closest long-distance friends, I hungrily read some great things I randomly stumbled upon, I consumed to fill my soul —and that obviously included binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy (again! and for Derek and Mark, obviously), Awkward. and The Good Wife.
Oddly, I was content.
10 days down and K was back. And the second he got out of the train (no, I could not wait till he came home), I transformed into a crazy kid, happy-high on sugar.
But for now, I knew that there was something in the world that was entirely just my own. I had conquered time, and made it mine. And the fact that, I could hold onto that just for myself, had left me feeling fresh, sunshiny, and something more *me * inside.
Sidebar: K, if you’re reading this— ugh don’t go away on work again. But if you do go, I know I can be on my own, make the best of it, and have a backpack full of stories to relive with you, for when you come back home.