Silent Night

As an only child, I’m predisposed to enjoy solitude. It comes from years of being alone. At first, you battle boredom. Then, you adjust to it. And eventually you come to love and crave it.

I like being alone. I work in a field that calls for me to be constantly interacting and networking with other people. And I love it – most of the time. I can also be a social person – enjoying “nights out” and being with friends. But eventually it can be too much. So, it’s no wonder that, sometimes, when I come home, I enjoy the blissful silence.

One of the advantages to Brett’s six years of late nights was that I had a lot of alone time after work. Having Brett be home now (almost the entire time I am conscious) is taking some getting used to.

But, sometimes, it works out. Like now. Brett’s fast asleep in our room, and I’m getting to do what I love most – write. (Okay, okay, so I’m taking a little break now to post this.)

It’s a cool, silent night.

Not all silent nights are created equal. During the week, I have to dread the silent night scenario that has me home alone, in trepidation of the masked gunmen who could break into my home and kill me.

But tonight, when my big, strong husband is just two doors down, our quiet home is a nice place to be.