Joe has been at a Harry Potter convention all week. Arden’s been at a weekend convention and doubling down with work since I left the US. The rest of my friends are there, but there are weird predispositions to inactivity that I get whenever I come back from America that slows me down on that front. My parents are in Suffolk for the week. My sister is working full-time, and for the most part she’s staying with her boyfriend across town.

So. I’ve been alone, mostly. Which is… not new, exactly, but slightly unfamiliar, given that I’ve more or less been in constant company (albeit in different rooms sometimes) for the last year or so. You get used to people in close proximity. And, inversely, you notice it when they’re not there. I didn’t get the chance to get used to Arden this time around, and maybe given that I had to leave that wasn’t such a bad thing, but I am used to this house being occupied by other people more or less constantly. To be the only one here is sort of eerie.

You get the feeling most when you’re doing the usual domestic tasks that others share - emptying the bins, loading the dishwasher, locking the house up at night. It’s not quite melancholy, but it’s the sense that something’s missing. A space reveals itself that you can fill with thoughts. It was being in this sort of situation most of the time that sent me a bit mad during my time at university, but in moderation the time to think isn’t really a bad thing. A lot of people live their lives from one social encounter to the other, and it can be a little soul-draining.

So. I went into the city by myself. I ate in a restaurant, alone. I wrote two and a half thousand words over the weekend. I’ve been sitting and thinking. Trying to get a handle on the relationships I have while they’re - for the most part - not present. Perspective like this doesn’t come along that often anymore. Best to grab it while it’s still around.