Something to pounder on
Ever since I can remember, as a kid I was obsessed with the idea of living alone. I guess it was a fantasy I had from playing house and taking it a little too seriously. This resulted in becoming a fiercely independent child that turned teen adolescent to now grown woman. It progressively got to be a little strange and concerning for some that I had no qualms with being alone and the mere slightest hint of unnecessary socialization would freak me out and feel ultimately, claustrophobic and smothering. I used to ask myself in a hopeful non-conceited way, ‘Ugh, why are these people so obsessed with me?’ of course they probably weren’t obsessed with me, they were just legitimately wanting to hang out like regular people do.
Now, cometh the day when I am suitably independent and (semi) socially acquired, living alone has proven to be a redefined…
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