None of this has been by choice. Sam and I didn’t break up. He dumped me. And if he hadn’t done that, there’s no way I’d be out here proclaiming how wonderful it is to make risotto for one. I’ve spent the past few weeks convincing myself that I’m becoming empowered, but I know that if someone, if anyone, wanted me, I wouldn’t be here. Maybe independence is just the flag we wave to distract from the pain of being alone. And if everyone’s afraid of me, alone is all I’ll ever be.
