Me, Myself and I

On most weekends of every summer, I am a fish widow. Every Saturday or Sunday beginning in June, Soul Mate heads out to sea, and he stays for as long as possible. This morning he left for two days. He was thrilled to go. I' m always thrilled to see him go too.

That probably doesn't sound very nice. But I mean it in the best way possible. Foremost, I am always happy to know that the dude is happy, and fishing makes him very happy. He says that what he loves most about fishing, outside of catching fish, is the beauty of the ocean. Those of us who know him well know that he really also loves the solitude. He loves his own company. As do I.

Don't get me wrong. I love this guy. On any given day, as his truck pulls into the driveway signalling his arrival home, my heart skips a beat. But I also do a bit of a happy dance when he packs up his boat and heads out of the driveway. And he knows it. He laughs about it, which I think is a good thing. I believe that it says a fair bit about our relationship that neither of us is offended or threatened by each other's need for alone time.

The truth of the matter is this. I have never really had a chance to live alone. I had my own place for a very short time when I was about seventeen, but it was during the craziest phase of my addiction, and I didn't stay home much. Or if I did, I don't remember.

I love having the house to myself, and I have for years. When the kids were smaller, and I was a full time student, I used to fantasize about having my own place. The fantasy began when I found out that there was a heritage building on my university's campus that housed only mature, female students. On my forty-five minute commute home at the end of a long day of classes, I would think about how much nicer it would be if I could just stay on campus as a boarder rather than go home to a house full of kids and household chores. I told Soul Mate about my feelings at the time, so he's known about this fantasy for a very long time.

I would never really want to live without Soul Mate, so thinking about how it would be to have my own place would never turn into actually getting my own place. But on days like today and tomorrow, I can kind of pretend that I am my only roommate.

Here's what today has and will look like, for me.

• Spinach and cheese omelette for breakfast (not Soul Mate's fave)
• Pyjamas all day (I am suffering with allergies from a laurel tree in my backyard that is trying to kill me)
• Not one, but two chick flicks (neither of them fabulous, but each kind of cute) 

• Writing a blog post or two
• One load of laundry, but only because I want to do it
• Knitting for as long as I please
• Sauteed prawns and brown rice for dinner (also not Soul Mate's fave)
• Sleeping in the middle of our fluffy, great bed tonight, just because I can

Sometime tomorrow evening, Soul Mate will back the truck into the driveway and come up the back stairs. He'll open the door into the kitchen, and he will look right away to see if I am in my chair in the living room. I will be. He'll be excited to tell me all about his adventures on the great sea, and I will enjoy hearing about them. He'll want to know all about what I have been doing, too. He won't be surprised at any of it.

But that's tomorrow night. Until then, I'm just going to get back to enjoying my day, my space. Over here, all alone. At my place.