I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing – their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling – their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses. To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights – then I start thinking about projects, deadlines, demands, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to done, not a background to thought.
I realised today that I don’t miss people, I miss their love. I miss seeing myself through their eyes.
The last few weeks have shown me how I can cope on my own and I’ve never been happier. I wish I’d felt this a year ago and maybe I wouldn’t have wasted so much time on things not even worth a second glance