After my split and divorce, I lived in my 1,404 square foot home for almost 4 years. Completely alone.

Just me and my Buddy, my crazy, loving black lab-mix mutt.

It took me awhile to get used to being alone, but now I sometimes I feel a strange draw back to being alone, even though I know I don’t want to be in that state again permanently.

I was very comfortable sitting at the bar or seeing a band by myself. Enjoying the scene, people watching, and keeping to myself.

It’s beyond ironic and it’s amusingly symbolic that while I was in the middle of one of these trips to the bar by myself, keeping to myself, that I met my good friend Sarah who is the sole reason I met my wife.

It mesmerizes me how all these feelings, habits, and events are so closely intertwined, threaded tightly together, making up the piece of art that is the story of our lives.

I sometimes miss being able to sit at a bar, with my cheap tasteless drink (because of my then – lack of knowledge in the alcohol arena), my mouth shut, just watching and listening to the free entertainment known as bar patrons.

But then I remember how lonely it really was.