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After sheltering with my family for three years, I'm alone in our house. My family is traveling. I'm lonesome and expansive. This conflict is strange. I love these empty rooms and I want my loved ones to get home soon.
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Every coupled person knows this dichotomy. For me, it's time for a non-compromise pizza. One half pepperoni, one half sausage. I don't know what my out-of-town, vegetarian wife is eating, but this pizza is MINE.
I know more ought to be said than that "I love this". It so gets right to the heart of the matter. Sometimes our families need to be fed and attention paid to them, and they impede our creativity and it seems overmuch and we're happy when they go on vacation. How arrogant, nevetheless, true for some of us. Yet, how empty the rooms seems when they're gone, and what joy when they return.