The Power of Love. Or Some Shit Like That.

I've spent years celebrating my independence. I love my motorcycles, my freedom, and the ability to disappear into my own head for a while. But when Dawna came home after being away for a couple of weeks, a friend at work asked why I was suddenly in such a good mood. Apparently, I'd been wearing my loneliness on my sleeve without even realizing it. Somewhere along the way, this woman became my new normal. And now I'm discovering there's a big fucking difference between being able to live alone and wanting to.