The Bachelor House

The world is so clear

With serenity around

With no space, no face

It took me two years to get that house the way I wanted it. Just the right finishes. Just the right accents of aesthetically pleasing upholstery and hanging tapestries. It was eclectic, yet simple. And it was mine. It was all mine.

It felt like I had built that house with my own two hands. It was everything I could’ve ever hoped to have in life in terms of a home. I had enough land that I couldn’t hear the neighbors or even the neighbors’ neighbors. I enjoyed the calming nature of mowing my acres of land. I’m not a farmer. I’m not an animal breeder. I’m just someone who likes to be left the fuck alone.

Unlike my oldest brother, I never felt like I needed a wife. And, unlike my youngest brother, I never felt like I needed a husband either. I was fine with acquaintances. I was fine with the occasional passerby or eye-catcher. But there was never a time that I felt overpowered by the feeling of needing to spend the rest of my life with another human being.

I liked peace. I loved serenity. I grew up as a shy child, that turned into a loner teenager, that turned into a somewhat sketchy college grad, that eventually turned into a well-kempt remote computer specialist. Have you ever heard of manifestation? Well, as a grew older, I worked on manifesting my future solitude. I had no desire to fill my life with the trivial situations and contrived circumstances my peers ended up in so frequently. There are actually people out there that enjoy being bachelors for entirely different reasons than what most may expect.

It has a wraparound porch, with simply placed outdoor furniture for lounging while watching the sunset over the hill in the distance. Every night, I grab one light beer, one cigarette, and a joint. With no obligations, I can sit and think about whatever I want to – other galaxies, underwater worlds, the end of time – absolutely whatever I want.

It’s cozy on the inside because I like that stereotypical feeling of home. I kept the house big enough for a single person, knowing it wouldn’t include any other residents. Maybe a dog, but that would be manageable. Everything was laid out for one. The only one it would ever need.

I built this house because I already had freedom, and I decided at some point in my life that I never wanted to let that go. When I was in college, I saw psychologists and psychiatrists trying to figure out why I didn’t care for human connection. Introversion. Asociality. Asexual. The terms meant nothing to me. The labels weren’t helping me figure out who I was or why I felt the way I did. I decided the only person who was ever going to really know me…was me. So, I created a life surrounded around me. And it was the best thing I ever did.

This is not a lonely life for me. I have all I want. It may be hard to understand because there are so many humans out there that need other humans to be around. We may be rare, but there are some of us that don’t. For some of us, the body we are in is enough.

I watch the sunrise. I watch the sunset. I cut my grass. I reflect. I breathe. I live. And I do it, with no judgment.