Living Alone

As I have written before, you probably all know I am viring. No secret here. Even my younger brother already lost his virginity, at least I think, at the girl’s plays where he is currently staying his nights. But that’s not what I want to talk about.

I lived at my parent’s house until I was 20. When I came home somebody was there to talk to. Sure, you don’t want to talk to every day about everything but at least you could talk to somebody about your day.

I moved and suddenly that changed. I came home after a harsh day and I would find nobody to tell about. At first, it feels a little bit uncomfortable but the longer that feeling stays the worse it gets.

Other people at my age did go to party’s or generally got to some Disco or bar. I wasn’t and still don’t be that person and on the other hand, I had the paramedic shift’s to do. Of course, they were on Mondays on Wednesday, when you’re probably not going to party, but I used the weekends to recover.

Sure I like to party sometimes, but I have to admit that I am a little bit afraid of meeting new people.

Now, almost five years later I moved again. Thankfully, I met a school collegue again and I have to say he’s my best friend now. We’ve got an almost brother-like connection that probably can’t be broken (idea for another post :) ).

With him, I at least get a little bit “under the people” (“unter die Leute”, not sure if it works in English :) ). But he is also an introvert.

I need to change that. I need to go out and meet new and interesting people. Not because social life tells you to do, but because I know it will be better for me.

Also, there is that other thing that bothers me. Waking up alone, in a bed large enough for two. Sure, relationships will come and go, but after all these years, waking up alone still hurts sometimes.