Singular

After so many years of being single, I'm starting to think that going home alone feels more right than it should. Do I like it? Well, that's a different story. But I'm starting to wonder if I can ever see it being any other way. Part of me is happy about this. Part of me is not. I almost don’t remember what life looks like any way but alone, yet I find no comfort in speculating "well, what if it stayed that way?" Though reading novels about zombies until I fall asleep in my recliner and waking up at 4am to stagger to bed does have its own charm...its own bachelor kitsch, I don’t think it will be enough — in the long run.