Home alone

I'm home. Alone. I park my car in the middle of the courtyard, I go get the mail; I open the door and take off my jacket, breathing the emptiness and loneliness and freedom of the rooms.
I prepare my humble lunch; I lay the table by spreading the cloth on half the table only, one glass, one fork, my plate filled with vegetables, a slice of bread toasted in the oven.
I switch on the tv and listen to the music while eating and reading a magazine. I wish there were cartoons on.
I put the dirty plates in the dishwasher, and wash the coffee machines that have been left in the sink this morning. I drink soluble coffee, so I won't use coffee machines, so everything will be tidy and empty and clean for the rest of the week.
I go upstairs, and open all the shutters; I am going to leave them open, at least the one in my brother's bedroom and the two in my parents' bedroom, because this way the light and the sun can stream in all day. When I have my own house the shutters are going to be open all day and all night, so that every shade of light can come in.
It is a warm November, so I don't need to switch the heating on. I thought I would use this week to create some tropical climate in the rooms, but apparently there is no need, and the few hours planned each day should be enough.
I think about mother, excited and shining at the thought of the pyramids, the sphinx, the desert.
I think about looking for another job, moving somewhere else, moving abroad, staying here; I think about myself in five years and of my grey melancholic face, of my eyes with no light shining from them anymore.
I am already losing the light.
Tonight I will sleep with my door open.
I will get up and be as noisy as I would be in the morning if I didn't have scruples to wake somebody up, so I will switch my radio on, but not too loud because I don't like loud sounds in the morning, and then I'll sing a little. The shutters will be all open so there will be a lot of light everywhere.

It's Wednesday, now, and I am still in a thoughtful mood. Kinda melancholic, really.
Last night I went to see my teaching friend; so, first the good news:

I HAVE MY FIRST BIRTHDAY PRESENT!!!

THANKS FIORELLA & MAURO!!!

This is really a special year, in a way.
I spent a very good evening, ate a fantastic chocolate dessert (which I can take since I am such a hard runner, so once in a while I am allowed...), chatted and talked, had some really good time. I love her house and I love her company. I wish we could meet more often, with tea and scones, and talk about books, and school, and travelling.
I went home, and I wasn't very sleepy, so I started preparing my lunch for today: spicy grilled aubergines with tuna (I love grilled aubergines...and I love spicy food..I'm really treating myself this week). Then some liquorice tea, and a couple of chapters of Jonathan Strange (I'm halfway through it...if all goes well I may finish it before Christmas..Gosh, I've never been this slow. Lack of time, that's all. Lack of time and too much running on my daily schedule), and light off at about one o'clock.
Sounds coming from everywhere around the house. The creaking-like sound of the radiators, the neighbour coming home, the donkeys in the field. I think I hear a muffled sound, like mother moving silently to go from her room to the bathroom.

There is no moon tonight, but the sky is clear; I have left the shutters open in my room because I'm scared of opening the window, since there are two huge grasshoppers outside my window - I am scared of grasshoppers, cannot stand them. And apparently my terrace is the only place of the house they like.

Suddenly I am thinking "This is me in a few months".
Because this IS me when I have my own flat, and I am living by myself and managing my life the way I want, and I have all the rooms to myself, and all the time I want to read, sleep, run, watch tv, write, be idle or superactive as much as I like.
But this is also me, having a solitary lunch with music and a magazine, washing the dishes, looking out of the window with my cup of coffee, lying in bed and jumping at all the mysterious noises around me.

So this is me, watching my days go by - alone.
Ok, there are friends to go out with, and have dinner with, and see a few times a week, but then what? Is it going to be like two weeks ago, when all I wanted was to go for a walk in that wonderful warm sun with someone, and I ended up reading outside in the garden and thinking of the cycling path with all the trees at the sides, and the colourful leaves, and the river, and the magical light of November afternoons? Is it going to be boring Sundays of chores, eat, run, read? Is it going to be me leaving my mobile switched on all day and all night vainly hoping to receive some message?

Last night before going to sleep I texted a couple of people...Honestly, I was slightly scared of being alone in the house, this irrational fear. The first time I heard the muffled sound I found the good excuse of having forgotten my mobile downstairs, so I went to get it, switching on all the lights on my way. I went back to bed and sent the same message to two people.
The message went like this:
Hi! On my second night alone because parents are away...but too many strange sounds...and probably there are monsters under my bed...Goodnight..:-o

It does sound childish now, because it's day and there's plenty of light and I really was a bit silly last night. But still, I felt lonely.

And I must confess that the first person I thought of was...Correct...The B&S guy...
I texted another friend, first, whom I haven't heard from for a while.

And then him.

I regretted it the instant I pressed the "ok" button, but it was too late.