Nick is away for work.
It’s great to have the tiny house to myself, as it’s actually a nice size for one person.
I can work out each day, on my own schedule.
I can watch stuff that I probably wouldn’t if he was around, like the People vs. O.J. Simpson.
I can carry on with my sub-par eating habits, like cooking the same old pasta with vodka sauce or preparing a really boring salad.
I can sleep really early and be in bed before 9 pm.
And then I can wake up without an alarm, and have my quiet coffee and internet time.
All of this is lovely. I appreciate solitude very much and regularly need my time alone, even when he is here.
But this weekend — sipping cider at a bar in town on my own, and exploring tide pools at the beach surrounded by families — I felt what it would be like without him.
And now, I can’t wait for him to come home.