The Act of Being Alone

Nothing quite captures the feeling of being alone like a room without a roommate. There’s an extra bed, and a drawer in the fridge. And even though the fridge is mine, this drawer does not belong to me.

My roommate is gone for two days, one evening. My best friend is out with her friends, and I am glad that she is having fun. Sometimes an all-girl environment is just too much, and I miss the old familiar smells of my mother’s cooking; fusilli, meatballs, old italian recipes you don’t write down. Things like that.

It’s just cold enough to bundle up but you can’t enjoy the snow. There is none.

You’re just, Alone.

-Katche