Alone

 It's been nearly a month now since I've spent any sort of time with Beloved Husband. 

First, I made the trip Up North to visit family; shortly after my return he went to a four-day conference, returned home for about 8 hours, and then went to a work-related meeting for four more days. On days in between our travels, there was regular work or other social functions that kept him out late or otherwise occupied. And then, shortly after his return, COVID struck. We are now on day eight of his positive testing; he is feeling much better, but all my research says nobody knows whether a late positive test means a person is still contagious or whether it is viral remnants. And so, we coexist in separate parts of the house, occasionally having a phone call or going on a short walk outside. 

It's not great Quality Time.

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I tend to be a fairly solitary person overall -- I like quiet time, I do not like crowds or even large groups. I prefer in-depth conversation over small talk. I was mostly fine during the first, oh, two years of the Pandemic, because Not Needing Interaction With People is one of my strengths.

Nevertheless, the level of interaction I have had with other adult human beings lately has been really really small, and it is finally starting to wear on me. 

I reach out by text/email to my Safe People (because phone could be intrusive, and electronic communication allows them to respond in their own time), but they are busy leading their own lives, and do not answer quickly or often. And because I am already sad, I worry that they don't answer because my bids for conversation are an annoyance to them. And then I am angry at myself, for wanting more from them than they give. 

I do not want what I cannot have.

I need to find some kind of mild (socially-distanced) activity to do with other people. So I can feel less alone, and like less of a burden for wanting conversation. 

We shall see. One day at a time.