home alone...

Whenever SO goes away for a tour, I’m prepared. I’m aware I’m going to be alone for awhile.
But this past weekend, he went away to SEE a show, not play one…and, I don’t know. Somehow its different.
Last night, I was all about being alone, planned my special ME time and such and a friend of mine called and wanted some company so he came by and hung around for several hours. It was nice, we haven’t been able to spend alone time in awhile, usually just a 5-9 people gatherings, but there remained a part of me that kept saying, “fucking go home…this wasn’t in my plan.”
So I planned on being alone tonight, but my friend’s show got cancelled so they came back from tour early and wanted something to do for their Saturday night…well, just call ole Sassy. So my house filled up with some more tired rock stars and we hung around and chatted all night—and it really was great fun. But because they drove nine hours last night after their last show for their short play-excursion, everyone just left at once.
And, suddenly, after acclimating myself to being around a group of friends, I’ve been left alone.
And part of me wants to tell them, “No, wait. Come back. Stay a bit longer.”
And a much larger part of me says, “Finally. Time to catch back up on me.”
And the very core of me, the part I don’t want to admit silently cries out, “Where is my Other?”

Oooh, getting a wee bit too sad around here for me.
I do believe I’ll pick up some Tucker Max, a glass of Chianti, and take myself a nice hot bath...

warm nights to you.