Gentle readers, I don’t know if this post is for you or not, so use your own discretion. I am writing this from a library computer once again, because I am currently between internet providers, because this is what happens when the policy holder passes away and the remaining person is not an immediate family member. This will be sorted soon. On the bright side, this means that I need to leave the house in order to get internet, which means being around people, even if it is in a library and most of them are quiet. Some of them are also librarians, who are super cool and know a lot of stuff.

But the lonely part. First of all, a definition. This may or may not be the definition of introvert and extrovert, and neither one is better than the other. Ambiverts also exist and are also awesome. This is the definition that resonated for me, and thus the one from which I personally operate. Here we go:

Introverts: gain energy on their own, spend energy around others.

Extroverts: gain energy around others, spend energy on their own.

I am the second. Real Life Romance Hero and Housemate were both introverts, and this actually worked really well. Parallel play, as we called it in early childhood development, was the absolute pinnacle. Real Life Romance Hero doing his thing on his laptop, me doing my thing on mine, occasionally bringing him up to date on important things like the King of the Hill new season, sending cat videos, direct messaging each other from literally the same room, that was good couple time. Similarly with Housemate, the door was always open to come into her room with my tablet, book, journal, whatever, and talk at her when I felt the need. Monologues encouraged. She would scroll or color or knit, and those were good times as well.

Fast forward to now. It’s me and Storm. Even my Sims save got corrupted, so my pixel people are no longer available until I can get back online and update. Isn’t tat always the way? Thankfully, my Libby app will allow me to listen to audio books offline, and I am taking strong advantage of that. Currently, I am reading Meet Me in the Garden, by Nina LaCour. This one counts as historical fiction, as it covers the lives of a Creole family from 1940s Louisiana and California, going forward. I will read any adult or YA fiction with this author’s name on it, no need to tell me anything about plot or characters. I will like it. That is the level of writing to which I aspire. Storm is a great companion. I would not want a human roommate or partner to headbutt my mouth, or insist on sitting on my chest when I am trying to read, but she is good for furriness and purriness, and a calico space heater on cool autumn nights. Conversation, though, well, I miss that.

Part of me thinks it’s a strange thing to be focused on when there is SO MUCH going on with my life, that is commonly thought of as more important than mere socialization, but socialization isn’t “mere” when it comes to extroverts. We need the people. That is where we get our fuel. Give me time with people, and then I will have what I need to go do things on my own. This is useful for a writer, and also for a person who is scrambling to rebuild life from scratch, which is what most days feel like…and it would be great to have someone to talk to all of this about at the end of a day.

I do believe that will happen. One day, I will have a roommate. One day, hopefully, I will have a partner again. Sooner than that, I will work out the internet and phone thing, which will help me sort out the Sims thing and I will be grateful for all of that. Right now, I have public internet, and a building full of books (actually, there are two I can walk to easily, so double good) and I need to go through the park on the way there and back. I get to see ducks and I get to see dogs.

Gentle Readers, maybe tap out now.

Here’s the thing. My sixtieth birthday is on Saturday. I love my birthday. It’s usually my second favorite day of the year. This year, ummm…I don’t know. I may be seeing a friend, and I may be going through the storage unit. Not knowing what will happen is not fun. It actually sucks. I debated mentioning this at all. Who wants to read about somebody whining about something as unimportant as birthday plans. There were plans, though. I don’t know most of them, as RLRH and Housemate were the conspirators. It would have been fun. I thought sixty was gong to look a lot different. I would share it with my husband and my best friends, and now…not.

There is, for those interested, an actual Song of the Lonely Extrovert. I would indeed sing it for RLRH and Housemate when I was in dire need of socialization. Lyrics could vary from time to time, but usually something along the lines of “I am all aloooooooonoe. Nobody is hooooooome.” Performed with all the pathos needed and until proper action is taken, and socialization is provided. Sometimes this resulted in an outing, which meant more people, which had the desired effect. I don’t know how that is going to resolve in the near future, but I will keep you posted.