In my head, some people are destined to spend most of their life alone. I am one of those people. When I am alone I remember how to correctly love myself. I remember how I am supposed to be loved. My body and thoughts are less of a burden because there is nobody around to tell me they feel upset by me. I deal with it all on my own. You might not think I can, but I promise you, I have done it before, I will do it again, and someday I will not need to any more. The ways that I love myself are secret and they are mine. In my head I live in a home that is some ways off the path that my parents would have liked for me to live on. There are trees, I live on a hill of course so I can get a nice and clear view of the things around me, and my house is yellow. My house should always be yellow no matter the circumstance. Since I am alone I did not have to argue with anyone to keep my house that way. The inside is made up exactly the way I like for it to be. My cabinets have dust in them but who else is there to care but me? I can grow plants next to the trees. I like to grow blueberry bushes in the spring, carrots in the winter, and tomatoes in the summer even though I cannot eat them. I drive the tomatoes into town which is only thirty minutes away and I give them to the usual people. My job lets me talk as much as I would like to. I am fairly regular and shallow, only a few people like to ask me clarifying questions. A few people know the secrets behind some letters in my name, and some people know the reasons why I started turning my phone off on some days of the year. At night I can do whatever I please. Sometimes I go outside to walk and look at the sky for stars which were unusual to see in the places I lived before I was alone. I am grateful to dress the ways I want and I do it without external commentary. I shower as often as I please, I take my time, I am in no rush. There is nobody telling me how fast I need to be at anything.
When I am alone, the way that I should be, I cannot argue with anyone but myself. That does happen just as frequently as it might with someone else living with me. But I have stopped telling myself recently, “I will never forgive you this time,” even if sometimes it is a complete lie. My arguments are never as violent or easily sparked as they can be with someone else in the room. They come from misunderstandings, from Band Aids being washed off in those showers I like to take in the middle of the day. I show myself the most love when there is nobody around that I am accountable to. I am free to love myself in the selfish way everyone does when they are all alone. I eat the foods I enjoy, I cook at any time of the night, I go on day trips to the beach and do not tell anyone when I will be back home, I pack up my car and move somewhere new for just a little bit in the summer time.
Best of all, I never regret the things that I say. I have a hard time biting my tongue. I’ve always been this way. I cannot hurt anyone if there is nobody around me in the first place. I am far, far away where my own words cannot come find me someday.
The longer I stay in the company of the people around me, the deeper I get into the game. The rules change more often than I would like. The rules change with age. They can be consistent if I think hard enough: Make yourself less accessible to be craved deeply; say you are okay to be understood when you are really not okay; give what you desire in hopes you get it back someday; understand you are always wrong, except for the times you are right.
I will be alone and stay alone someday. I do not know how soon. I wonder if I will be missed by the people who remember when I was around. I wonder if I will miss knowing that someone once told me that to them, joy was seeing me dressed in all my favorite yellow clothes.
You should remember: The way I love myself is a secret and it is a lie. Love me. Love me; one day, some parts of me will die.
