I just had a very odd moment.

Sometimes I get lonely. I'm never quite sure what it is what I want when this happens, I just get knocked a little flat by the reality of my solo flight.

I'm up too late. When I finally tear myself away from the computer, flip off the reality TV I watch when I'm grading papers, start to straighten up for the night, I'm hit with a wave of lonely.

Normally, when this happens, I curl up in my comfiest chair and just sit in the feeling for a while. So I figured, okay, well, I'll do this for a bit. I'll have a contemplative little 15 minutes.

But then — and this is the odd bit — it just went away. I looked around my living room, the apartment that's just mine. It's neat, because no one else is here to mess it up. There's a cookie left on a plate on the coffee table, and it's still going to be there tomorrow, because no one will sneakily eat it when I'm not looking. There is nothing in this place that is ugly, that I don't want, that I keep around because I have to.

Tomorrow I'm going to a job that I choose to have. I will be wrestling, all day, with what I'm going to do with my life next, but that choice, when I make it, will be mine, too.

I was all set to have my little moment in my comfy chair, feeling sad and alone and such, and I just can't do it. I don't want anyone else here. I miss the boy, it's getting harder to say goodbye to him each time I do, but — I am loving having my own life.