I woke on Saturday in an empty house and pretended I wanted to see a movie. By myself. Matinee. Then dinner. By myself. But I kept thinking of Bryan.
I kept thinking of what I could say to Bryan, how he would comment, and it was ridiculous. I took myself home, angry. Angry that I had let someone into my life to the extent he filled the empty corners.
I considered ways to weaken Bryan’s position in my life.
Friends; all my friends were old in thought and acted as if they were my parents, even those younger than I.
I had hobbies. Internet, television, cooking, I even painted. No. I didn’t need anything to occupy my time. I needed someone to share my life.
That was the incontrovertible constantly ignored truth. The truth I avoided. Had avoided.
That was the truth which had made me so anxious and excited and desirous of renting out a room to Bryan.