I don’t know how to live alone. I don’t know how to be alone in the evenings without another adult to keep me company. I don’t know how to live alone without a small child or two or three to snuggle and read stories to and do puzzles with and do bedtime routines for.
I don’t know what to do when it’s just me.
Watch TV? It’s boring. We’re in midseason hiatus.
Watch movies? I’ve seen most of the movies I want to in the free ones and the VOD costs.
Craft? It’s lost a bit of it’s lustre… I don’t know who or what to craft for.
School work? Yeah… that’s coming. I can start on math… it’s self-paced. Or I could read the books that I have and get a jump on what I’m supposed to be learning.
Coffee with friends? Well… they’re all busy. With lives. *sigh*
Cleaning? I live in a tiny 3 bedroom basement suite. Guess what? It’s clean. And fairly organized. And the clutter is getting less and less because I just keep decluttering.
Work out? Can’t do that all night.
I miss my husband. He was good company. We would talk. We would craft together. We would play cards. Play games. DO stuff together.
I don’t know what to do with myself.
I’m bored. I’m lonely. And it leaves me restless, irritable and discontent.
Being a widow sucks.
There is so much I miss about him. But his presence… that… I miss most of all.