It Begins Again

I am now living in an apartment with three close friends, with two others living a minute-long walk away, but for some reason I feel an implicit lack of something. A vacancy, and I’m not sad about it or pissed or anything particularly destructive, I must simply comment on the whistling of the wind that occupies this space.

I am worried because I think that void can only be filled by a companion, something I have not required in my life for some time now. For about a  year I have chosen to remain single, or have eluded myself into believing I was choosing such a path. I did not want a companion, to place it simply. And I do not really want one now for some reason. But I can sense a psychological need for someone to care for and to care for me. The dependency that we desire from others and desire to grant is a despicable yet beautiful human trait. Obviously it was designed for mating, built into our genes to perpetuate the existence of our species, but it is so goddamn exploitative. I am being manipulated and deceived by myself, and not only am I doing it to myself but I’m aware of it and remain powerless in its path.