My Island Life

The reality of my solitariness is finally sinking in, if there is such a word.

Alone is a choice I made, without perhaps really realising it. In this new life, I have no real friends in close proximity, within arm's reach. No family as yet. Not real family that is. Just the two boys, whom I tenuously depend on.

I am sure Tiggy would say that it is all in my head - this feeling that I am by myself. But I think she is now beginning to understand how I feel - that having people around me does not equate to having someone really being there for me. She is at times, I know, lost, at her inability to assist me when I am feeling overwhelmed. 

But, I have to say, this being alone is not something that sits unwell with me. Strangely enough, there is part of me that enjoys it. As if I have learned to detach from everyone else, and I don't really need anyone with me for me to be happy. I have become a rather unfamiliar creature to myself since the Apocalypse.

I find myself strange sometimes. I don't know if I am happier, or whether a part of me has died.