For the last month or so, a friend of mine has been crashing on my couch and now that she's packed up her stuff and moved back home, I feel... lost.
When I first offered her the option of staying with me (due to circumstances I won't discuss here), I felt apprehensive because I've never been the type of person who liked having a roommate. Just the thought of having someone invade my personal space was enough to give me heart palpitations, but I figured she was in a bind and I was in a position where I could help, so I did. During the period of time that she spent with me, I learned a lot about myself and I can honestly say I'm a better person for having had her around.
I think there's something to be said for friendships that are built on similarities. What I didn't know prior to this experience is that she and I are a lot alike. We're both writers who work tirelessly to put out the best quality of news possible, despite the usual hardships full-time writers face. Outside of work, we both enjoy reading (she brought a huge pile of books with her to my house, for which I was thankful because I found a few interesting novels to read) and we both seem to be unlucky in love. It's refreshing to talk to someone who understands exactly how that can negatively affect my overall outlook on life. Plus just having someone around to talk to and laugh with was nice, I won't lie.
Now that she's "moved out," I find myself bored with my same old routine. Quality alone time is important, but I crave company. I want more than anything to go out and do something, anything... but what?
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