New Home

A week ago today I moved into my own place, by myself. Living on one's own I am finding is incredibly freeing, but simple; in other words, I think I am lonely but do not want to admit it. Or maybe I am not lonely yet, and fear I will become so. I'm also experiencing the humorous moments of realization where I am starting over, on all fronts. Buying groceries, coming home to cook dinner, and forgetting I don't have oil, butter, or salt and pepper; My meals have been rather bland and boiled. The spice and flavour is missing from my cabinets, and I worry I will lose it from my life. The whole single life is great in some ways, but when I am home in the evening I still find myself waiting. Just waiting, I think, for someone, anyone really, to come home. If this is even my home yet. This thought makes me feel well, a bit lost. Home: what a vast concept to through around from place to place. I will find myself here soon enough, and this haze of confusion and uncertainty will rise, my sleepless nights will end, and a special place of my own, is what I will find.