I am a ridiculous person.
Just know this now.
Actually, you may have already known that fact, but I'm stating it anyway. My reason for this statement? I'm on my second night of crying as I climb into bed, and I foresee myself continuing this habit for probably another week. Folks, I'm four months shy of turning 22, and here I am crying myself to sleep when dusk falls. I'm too old for this. Yet I'm doing it anyway. Why? Because I'm lonely.
I moved into the loft two days ago. It's just little ol' me up here. Me, plus the spiders and mice that share this place, anyway... It's dark, unfamiliar, chilly because I can't get the wood stove heated up due to the ash tray having technical difficulties, and frankly... I hate being alone. I just really, really, really hate being alone at night.
I'm sure I'll get used to this in time... Things will become familiar, I'll get the wood stove fixed tomorrow, the cat will fix the mouse problem... My hope is that in a week I'll be able to act like a normal adult who doesn't mind being alone at night. But right now? Well, right now I'm propped up in bed with tears streaking my cheeks. I've brought Gyp to bed with me tonight to fight against some of the loneliness, and I will somewhat sheepishly even admit that I'm wearing a sweater, that I pilfered from my boyfriend, to act as a security blanket.
I hate nighttime these days... After dinner, I begin to feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach; it grows and intensifies as the hours fall away. Pretty soon it's time: Time for me to walk up to the loft and spend the next 8 - 9 hours in darkness, silence, and isolation.
I really hope I get used to this soon... In the meantime, all I've got is a dog and a red sweater to help me through.
Any advice on how to get over this little problem? I would really love to hear some wisdom right now.