Home alone

If I speak, no one answers. You're away at the Cape, so when I go to bed, no one to say Good night to; when I wake, no one to say Good morning to. No one to talk about the 'wardrobe malfunction' at work today. No one to point out funny things in the newspaper to. No one to share my new flavor of ice cream with. No one to commiserate with about the heat. No one to run my new idea by. When I call out about something I'm watching, no reply will be forthcoming. Alone.

I prefer to be alone away from home. I have no trouble traveling for days on end sleeping in a tent sending (admittedly intermittent) messages back about where I am and what I'm doing. Then you're the one alone. I'm making it up as I go along, but you're observing the old rituals with something missing.

Now the tables are turned. You'll be back soon with good stories of the things you've done, the pleasures you've enjoyed. Can't wait to hear. Stay away much longer and I'll miss not just your companionship. As it is, these last evenings, everything we normally share has been like towels hung on slippery wall hooks: everything ends up crumpled on the floor.

Hope you're having a good time; don't mind me being nonplussed. Come back soon.