I can mostly do it on my own, you know?
Like I’m usually single and I’ve mainly lived on my own. I
can keep myself alive (mainly). I can cook, keep plants alive (mostly), look
after friend’s pets, keep my place looking decent (ish). People trust me with
their kids (sometimes) even.
I’m not bad, you know?
I’m not great either. I smoke too much, drink too much,
exercise too little (or not at all) and am prone to wallowing in my own shit
for as long as I can stand it (figuratively - though refer to the above
regarding my place).
It gets tiring doing it on your own, you know?
Some days you’re just checking shit off the life list like
it’s no big deal and the next day – well the next day you’re watching a whole
season of crap television because no one cares if you broaden your mind. You’re
the one who has to care about that. And that’s tiring. It’s tiring, it gets
depressing and it gets lonely. And you’re going to have to do it tomorrow too.
Don’t get me wrong, some days you get to revel in doing it
on your own. You can do what you want, when you want. You can say yes to that
concert or a last minute dinner party. Want to stay out until 4 am? No big
deal, just do it.
And the next day, when you’re feeling happy for the
experience and maybe sporting a small hangover, the smile fades, wondering who
you’re going to tell your life to.
“You said it would be painless,
It wasn’t that at all.”
It wasn’t that at all.”
