i’m home alone tonight to bake a cake and as i absentmindedly crossed the room to stick it with a toothpick, i passed by Saint Brigid the Brave curled up on our paper bag stack underneath the coffee nook. i glanced down at her and then said to her in a singsongy way, “oh my little brigid cat. you are my only friend.” and then i realized what had actually come out of my mouth.
i was thinking earlier tonight how i would describe living with newlyweds. in my mind, i’m either part of the family or a guest in their house, usually depending on whether dinner was made by one of them or not. if yes and i did not contribute (typical), i feel like an uninvited guest and make myself slave away over a kitchen full of dirty dishes afterward out of obligation for the chef. if no, it’s usually because we spent the night ensconced in some amazing new hbo series, wrapped up on the couch in fuzzy blankets oblivious to the world. and not speaking - the comfortable silences are one of the best parts about family. those nights, we are all equal parts lazy.
another bit about life with the newlyweds… now i know that i’m.. alone. all of the time. and they… always have each other. i know that i keep myself good company, i guess, in the grand scheme of things. i could be a worse person for myself to be around 24/7.. like i said before, there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely, and i’m lucky to rarely feel the latter. with the newlyweds around though, i catch myself toeing the line more and more. there’s something about seeing them together, stealing kisses and giggling all night. even when they get into fights about the proper timing of boiling pasta, there’s a sense of stable belonging that i haven’t let myself feel in.. forever, it seems.
and warm-up time for my fingers and my mind is over. 1 rad school essay down, 2 hard ones to go. think well of me in these trying times, please. either i go to the wright institute 5 blocks down or i go to francophone africa (probably).
