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Solo

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I’m the last of six children and we all lived together with our mom. I grew up accustomed to feeling the presence of others; always knowing that “someone is around”. When I hit puberty, I was grateful that my family, though religious, was still liberal enough to let me stay home from church once in a while, whenever I said I didn’t want to go. I craved that solitude back then; the knowledge that nobody else was around. The thrill of strange noises caused by unknown and possibly macabre agents.
I never lived outside of home during my school years, the main reason being that our house at the time was actually a trekkable distance from my campus. It was therefore impractical of me to schlep all the way to the hostels, which were even farther away than the school. Also, staying on campus would incur expenses that would be both cringeworthy and painfully unecessary for my mother. I knew all this, so I never pushed. Continue reading