On my own.
I imagine alone as a mom of three little ones.
I crave alone.
Peace and quiet.
Can I have just 5 minutes of peace even?
Just give me peace, I say.
Now these giant children stand before me.
I no longer want peace. Not really. The quiet is deafening. In truth, what I want is connection. Talk to me. Tell me about your day. Tell me what is going on inside of you. Really going on. Tell me more.
What I get are one word answers.
Then a door closes.
You want your connection somewhere else. Your screen friends are waiting. Your school friends send a message. You connect with those who understand email is no longer a thing and news is read on Reddit.
So I am alone. Even though you might stand right here, needing an ride, needing a meal, needing clean clothes. Not a connection, but still needing.
I am alone, without peace, without quiet, without the connection to you I crave so much. This alone I have wanted for so long is mine; but I realize I don’t want THIS alone. What I really want is to go back. Back in time. Back to when you held my hand. Back to when you sat on my lap. Back to when you answered more than fine or nothing or go away.
Back to when we were a we, you and me.