In a house all alone

I was talking to David the other day about his day off- see he takes Fridays off and while the kids and I are at school he rests, studies, cleans, and recoups from the long week of hard people focused work he does. He stays in the house. By himself.
I am jealous of this. I can probably count on my two hands the times that I have spent alone in this house.
Now here is one of the things that are fully part of who Bethany is as a person: an extrovert- every quiz, every time, all the points- extrovert. I love people. I love being with them. I can spend days talking to old friends. I delight at the thought of meeting strangers and making friends with them. I love meetings. I adore a room full of people, even if we aren't friends yet. I love my kids hanging on me. My life if full. of. people. At work. At church. At home. Especially at home. Around here most days, it isn't usually just our 2 kids- it is most often a small herd of neighbor kids too. Our house is the neighborhood house. This is fantastic.

However, every so often I wish for the chance to sit in a house all alone. I am not even sure that I'd know what to do exactly. Listen to the silence. And by 'the silence' I really mean an NPR podcast. Read a book uninterrupted. Watch whatever I want on TV.
As I wish for this thing, I am acutely aware that there are so many people who are living this way- this house by themselves- and are so desiring my existence. Having someone always around, needing, wanting, surrounding them. That being alone is an option instead of the only thing. Specifically, not 20 ft from where I sit is our neighbor's house. Frank. He is alone all the time. He is a widow and his son dutifully comes every other weekend, but this is the only visitor. Frank can't even drive any more so his life is fully isolated.
This is the paradox; in the same way that every curly haired girl has a straight haired counterpart wishing for the opposite of what they have- every time I want more solitude, there are people who are lonely and sad wishing for companionship- wanting to trade me places. To think of us all as extreme opposites desiring the other life is a little too ying and yang for my taste, but it is an interested reality.
I don't feel guilt over these longings, no shame in wanting them- in fact I have had too much of this thing I want in other stages of my life and will be there again sooner than I can realize it, but I do find the reality of it interesting. The psychology or sociology or people-ology of these simultaneously similar and dissimilar of human experiences. And further evidence to support the argument of a life lived in gratitude for the stage and reality I am in, and a life lived with empathy for the reality that I do not live in.


***side note: when I told David I was jealous of his alone time, he generously offered to take the kids to the park and grant me my wish, and my reply was- "oh no I want to be with you guys." :)