Tonight I am alone. Pirate has left for the week. (When we woke up this morning I looked at him and realized that the next time we wake up together it will be as husband and wife. Wow.)
Not only that, all my flatmates have gone. I am the last person in the flat.
I am also the last person in the entire 8-storey, 200-occupant building. Everyone else left Friday, or Saturday at the latest, but I got special leave to remain since I had no where else to go before the wedding.
Now, my flatmates were pretty fucking anti-social. I rarely saw or spoke to them. I knew they were there because the kitchen was constantly filthy, but that was the only evidence of their existence.
But somehow without them here the place is eerily quiet. It doesn't help that Pirate has also taken Goebbels (the evil, aryan, Nazi dwarf hamster) as well as Wong-Foo, Studly, Preggers, and Gluon (my Betta, 2 guppies, and their quantum offspring, respectively). The hamster wheel and aquarium bubbler have been my constant night-time noises for 3 years.
And because it's Sunday, there aren't even many drunk people outside screaming. There are fewer ambulances. There are no live bands at the pub downstairs. Even the seagulss have gone. (Thank fuck for that, anyway.) Except for the hum of normal traffic around St. Augustine's Parade, it is completely quiet.
I have never felt so alone in the middle of a huge city.
This is the first time since I arrived I'm locking myself in my bedroom while I sleep.