For eight years I lived alone. Six in Southern California and two in Missouri. For a while it was just me, then it was me and my autism service dog, Tye.
He’s decent company, though not much of a conversationalist. Eighteen months ago, my then 21-year-old daughter moved in with me and for a few months, it seemed as if I was once again living with someone.
Then she began working more hours, making friends, and eventually got a boyfriend, and I would see her maybe a total of an hour a week, so it was almost as if I was living alone again.Read more on themighty.com