There's only space for one of us in here .. or is there?

And since i haven't spewed out the daily dose of entertainment to the usual suspects over chat or the phone, let me indulge for the evening. There's simply too much running through that little mind. Please to skip coz it's all contextual and all personal.

For the last 2 years I've dreaded coming home to an empty apartment. For that more than for rent savings, I always lived with someone. There's something about quietness that I never did do too good with. Uncannily enough it was the Penguin who pointed that out to me. There'd ALWAYS be something running in the background in my room. Music, a 22nd rerun of an old F.R.I.E.N.D.S. cd or ever since I've acquired cable, the TV. Always.

And suddenly for the last few months, each evening, as I put the keys into my apartment door slot, I find myself hoping it's empty when I enter.
(Don't get me wrong. My flatmate isn't bad at all. She and I live separate lives except for exchanging accounts and discussing what's run out and needs re-stocking. And we're super happy with it. With not having to make mandatory small talk early in the mornings, when we're both keen to just brew our own cups of tea and be out the door. And with not having to join each other's social circles or participate in the other's life. So it has nothing to do with her.)

I just want, emptiness in the literal sense of the term. I find it most evenings. And I sigh in relief.

And I find that so... so ungrateful .. given posts that various bloggers have written about how the emptiness engulfs you with its silence that some noise, any noise is welcome. And think to myself, since when did I turn into such a man?

I say man, cause I know most guy friends are this way. They hate having to come home to instant chatter. Even that of a loving girl friend. (LOL just as I wrote this, N's girl friend who lives upstairs, walked in!!) Esp in the evenings. But give them some time to be on their own, and you'll find them ready to do conversation. And I find that happening to me a lot these past few months. From 7 to 9 I'm quiet and pottering about the house ... and then suddenly there's blogging, chatting ... all of that.

With most current friendships and the only one relationship having been long distance, I'm now worried that I might be able to function around people, maybe even love them sufficiently, only when I'm away from them. Worrying thought that.

And if that's not bad enough, after having spent the last 2 evenings readying my saris for M's wedding and grappling with about 2 pairs of every accessory to choose from for every SINGLE sari, I wonder, what kind of schizophrenic lives inside me - the caveman acting snappy and needing "space" one moment and the woman putting together coordinated accessories the next.

To think I started out thinking I'd do a tag this evening. I think I've pushed the hand to its limits though. Ta for now and see you tomorrow! :-)