At least he's a presence in the apartment. In the back of my mind, I contrast this with being really alone. Taking him to be admitted to a nursing home seems kind of like a rehearsal for going to the cemetery for his interment. I will return from that to a condition of aloneness that I haven't been in for a long time. Solitude has its merits and I probably do better than a lot of people at enjoying solitude. But involuntary aloneness can be pretty awful. There's no shortage of testament to that across these forums. I really did have more than my share of experience at being alone . . . really alone. It's not just the lack of other human beings in close proximity. It's that, plus the lack of there being anyone to be aware that I even exist. That as a young adult, on top of a childhood full of experiences of being remote from normal peer contact, is a past history that led to me tolerating involvement with a man who had serious problems that made him a troubling influence on my life. From soon after meeting, though, he seemed to have me on his mind an awful lot. To know that you're thought about by someone just about all the time is a powerful antidote to the mental misery of feeling that your existance matters not to anyone. I could see that I was alive and taking up space on the planet, but I might as well not have been born, so far as there being anyone who was aware of me. My parents were okay people, but they could be emotionally aloof to the existence of their progeny to a bizarre degree . . . products, I suppose, of some deficits in the rearing that they were afforded. It was really an odd style of parenting that turned out offspring with so much obvious unmet need. Everyone has unmet need, but I'm talking outside the norm. One of my sibs could be a contender for a gold medal in being screwed up via the lack of having been nurtured. I managed to adapt better and learn to self-nurture, but like the song says, "Everybody needs somebody sometime." Some things are hard to teach yourself, if parental role modeling isn't there.

So along came this guy and someone was present in my world. He had problems, but he could be good company. And he was just as in need of connecting with another person. So we coupled up and it felt like a relief for both of us. So I wanted to make the most of that for what time was going to be left, now that he obviously hasn't got much time to go. Then dementia kicks in and the space between us widens no matter how close together we sit. It's like he's drifting away in a little boat, while I stand on the shore straining to see him through a thickening fog. But, at least, being in this apartment together creates some semblance of home and family.

So that's on its way out. I'll be kind of back to where I was before I met him. At least, what we seemed to have got me through a lot of years. I never expected to live this long.

Maybe, if I go eat something, I won't feel so bad. Plus I have to feed him. Tomorrow's another day. Maybe my bad episode is winding down. They always do eventually. Taking a hydrocodone earlier helped. I'm going to run out before the end of the month, which I usually don't let happen. They help me mentally and past few weeks were trying. I should go buy some wine. I don't think being alone at this stage of my life will be as bad as when I was young. Sometimes you just have to keep yourself company. That's what I'm doing on this thread right now. Some can relate to that. Some can't. Some just ought to move on and spare me their inane commentary. Solitude isn't the worst thing.