Hotel Cafe, an intimate concert venue in Hollywood, catch movies at the independent theater across the street from my place and browse the flea market each Sunday morning. I missed having friends in the same city, but felt so fulfilled that I was content being so independent.When I first moved to L.A., immediately after college, I spent a lot of time alone. It was a stark contrast to life in the dorms, which was consistently loud, cluttered and offered little room for privacy. I had my own studio apartment, which I loved, but since I didn't know anybody, I did everything by myself. I'd see live shows at
Last week I realized something: I hadn't done anything on my own in a really long time. One of the benefits of being married is that I always have a built-in partner to do things with. Even on nights when I have no plans, I sort of do - we open up a bottle of wine, listen to music, watch TV and read in bed. And all of a sudden, the evening unfolds into a casual date at home. But I've never wanted to turn into one of those co-dependent couples, unable to enjoy our time apart from each other.
So when G told me he had plans last Tuesday night, I decided to slightly revive my former life. Typically I'd opt to have the place to myself or go out with friends, but instead, I went for a walk and took myself out to dinner. I had forgotten how nice it is to spend time on my own. My senses were heightened and mellowed at once - I noticed the classical music playing from the house down the street, the warm stillness in the air and how good my food tasted when I wasn't distracted by anything else. A table for one was just what I needed.
It was comforting to realize that I still appreciate my independence, even if it's not something I take advantage of on a daily basis.