There’s something a bit sad about going to town on your own, sitting in a bar/pub/whatever-wetherspoons drinking on your own, getting a pizza and walking home on your own and then eating aformentioned pizza in your bedroom in the dark on your own. Can’t quite put my finger on it…
*puts finger on novelty and imaginary sign of the words “on your own” which exists only for this joke* Oh wait! Yes I can!
Whilst I fully acknowledge that all this is the sign of a sad and lonely individual, I’m used to it. Plus, for various reasons, anyone who out tonight would’ve probably been subject to a rant/outburst/emotion bomb about my life situation that would’ve been like opening the ark of the covenant, but with less nazis.
So, in a way, me being on my own saves people, which is kind of noble. Granted, it saves them from me so it’s a hollow moment.
None of this mindset is healthy, but it’s the one I’ve got.