Friends pack up excitedly, telling me about the kosher stuffing their moms use or the gluten-free apple pie they stuff their soul with during the holidays. It's not good. I don't mind being alone, but I mind everyone else not being alone.
I tell myself I like being solo. And yet. When I'm alone I ebb and flow between a proud sense of independence and a numbness that takes over. When we are together I breathe you in and fill my chest with you. It's you and me and then there's them. But right now, it's just me.