Living alone

After a day that seemed never-ending, I came back home as usual to my baby girl Evaline, it has always been a ritual for me to walk her out after work. Surprisingly, the night was cold, and the lights on the snow felt like a Christmas evening, I felt a sense of joy and comfort that I haven't felt for a long time.

Days have flown by since the last time I've had a family gathering, almost ten years passed from the moment I started living alone, a part of me is longing to a family reunion a warm and solemn meeting.

Living alone has been such an interesting journey, a tapestry woven with threads of both joy and sorrow. There are days when the solitude feels like a warm embrace, a comforting silence that lets me hear my own thoughts clearly. I love the freedom to move at my own pace, to decorate my space exactly how I want it, and to spend hours lost in a book without interruption. There’s something truly liberating about knowing that every decision in this space is mine to make.

This morning, I woke up to the sunlight streaming through the curtains, feeling a deep sense of peace, I made a cup of coffee and sat by the window, watching the world outside every person has a story beneath, life is just too busy outside it keeps moving fast, the quiet moments are my favorite—no rush, no demands, just me and my thoughts. It’s in these moments that I find a profound sense of happiness, a contentment that fills me from within. But then, there are the evenings that stretch out like shadows passing by, sometimes the shadow of my mother calling me help setting dinner table, other times my little sister asking for help with her homework, and the best time when my father make coffee and ask me to join him watch NBA. that's when the silence feels too heavy, and the loneliness creeps in.

Last night, I felt the weight of it acutely. The apartment seemed too big, too empty. I missed the sound of another person’s voice, the shared laughter, the simple presence of someone else in the room. It’s strange how a place can feel so different depending on the time of day and my mood, on those days i fill the silence with music, a very humble playlist of progressive, Indie rock and some orchestral pop, i love listening to Ornette Coleman the moment i open my eyes, his songs are such a positive touch, also i enjoy romanticising a healthy breakfast, i mostly go for a salmon herbs cheese kinda meals, woks for lunch and a mushroom soup to end the day fresh. Cooking is a craft and learning to cook is one of the essential human skills. My cooking skills are nowhere near as good as I want them to be, but with continuous practice I’ll be good in a few years to come. If I’m in a good mood (or not feeling lazy), and with ingredients and some time, I try to make food that’s tastier. Cooking challenges creativity and encourages to discover new dishes. I don’t always know what I’m going to cook, I just take what’s available and use it the tastiest way I can think of. I also look up recipes i mean what would I do without YouTube?, and cook them myself. Some I recreate successfully, some I don’t, but overall i love it

Despite the loneliness, I’m learning to appreciate my own company. I’ve discovered new hobbies, found joy in simple pleasures, and grown more resilient. It’s a journey of finding balance, of cherishing the solitude without letting it turn into isolation. And maybe, just maybe, this time alone is helping me become a stronger, more self-aware version of myself.

So, here’s to the ups and downs of living alone—the moments of blissful peace and the nights of quiet introspection. Each day brings a new lesson, and I’m learning to embrace them all.

Until another one