And tonight the quiet isn't so bad

Tonight the quiet isn’t so bad.

I’m good about being alone. Growing up, my favourite place was my bedroom with the door shut. Even now.

When I was married, my former husband used to come home from work and find me sitting by myself in the bed. Legs tucked under the duvet for warmth, even in summer. 

“We have a whole house and you’re always in here.”

I don’t know that I ever really felt that comfortable there in that house. I found solace in the bedroom. It was still my room even though it was ours.

But tonight, I’m not there in that house anymore. It’s since been sold off to another couple, making their new beginnings, creating the family that I had wanted to create for myself. I haven’t actually thought about them until now. I don’t pray, but I send them a silent, wordless blessing. 

Tonight, I’ve made my dinner for one, which will always be too much, and because of that reason I don’t often do it. More often than not, I will store the leftovers in the back of the fridge and forget about it until it starts to mould, alongside my other produce that I can never get through alone.

I’ve got multiple beverages on the go - one for energy, one for hydration, and one for fun. I’ve put on The Bear again to indulge in the turmoil of characters with far more deep-seated issues than I have, who I can still entirely relate to. Their emotional outbursts are somehow comforting to me. 

I’m slipping back and forth between Instagram and TikTok, pausing to laugh at something utterly ridiculous or save something that I want to look back at later, but I never will. 

At this time of the night, the hours seem to go by as quickly as an endless scroll.

I brush and floss and scrape my tongue because tonight the quiet isn’t so bad. 

I’m taking my time. There’s no rush to go out anywhere, no one is expecting me or expecting anything of me. The flowing water from the tap is a soothing refrain.

Time for the elusive skincare routine. Double cleanse, exfoliate, serum - all the way down my neck and on the back of my hands, thank you very much - moisturise, lip mask. I look at my face in the mirror and decide that I do, in fact, look beautiful without makeup on because tonight the quiet isn’t so bad.

I don’t pour over my pores. I don’t pick my blemishes. I don’t frown at my acne scars. Tonight I’m impressed that my face is still my face. Slightly older each day and that’s fine. I’m alive and that’s a good thing. 

I slide into bed, oil my cuticles, and put on my hand cream. I take a peek at my phone, of course, its screen lighting up my face. No messages.

Tonight’s a night where not having anyone to talk to (not even a little text) is OK with me. Nights that were filled with sick-making anticipation, wanting to hear from someone who wants little to nothing to do with me are filled with vast open space. A space that once made me feel nervous. The endless void looking back at me tonight is filled with hope, rather than fear. A pocket of peace.

Look at all that beautiful time.

Tonight the quiet isn’t so bad. Tonight I’m grateful to not waste my precious seconds thinking about men who never once thought of me.  

Tonight there is no mulling over failed relationships. Agonising over last words, or words left unsaid. There is no replaying of old times and past conversations. There are no what ifs. There are no excuses. There’s no painting a picture of a future that will never come to pass.

There’s only tonight. Another evening alone, but not lonely. A night where the quiet means sleep slides over me soundlessly, easily. And as the morning light peers over me, right in those early hours, the warmth kissing my cheeks gently as I wake, I’m happy to do it all again.

About me: I'm Nicole, the writer of The Noteworthy. I’m also a content creator and the co-host of the award-winning Mixed Up podcast. Having been chronically online since the age of 13, you can also find me on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and Pinterest. I’m working on my first book, The Half Of It, which you can pre-order here.