Chitra Ramaswamy

Published on Friday 17 April 2009 15:11

I USED to be great at spending time on my own. I always loved pottering around second-handies and buying dog-eared Agatha Christies that I already own – a nasty habit acquired from Mrs Ramaswamy. I loved cooking for one, shopping for one, cleaning for one. I was brilliant at turning up at parties with just a bottle of wine on my arm (though less good at leaving). I actually liked my own company. Weird.

Now I'm a co-dependent's fantasy, officially crap at life for one. This horrific realisation dawned on me last weekend. My partner, C, was away for the afternoon. Yes, for four whole hours on a Sunday. I was at my wits' end, pacing the bedroom, wringing my hands, all that out-damned-spot stuff. The weather was beautiful, sun on cobbles, Leith Links a pastoral dream. But I didn't know what to do with myself.

I decided to go for brunch, booked a table for one, then cancelled it 15 minutes later. I went for a walk, sat on a bench, then got ants in my pants when it clouded over. I wandered to a caf, drank a hot chocolate, read two Sunday papers from cover to cover, and then checked my watch.

Another two hours of Chitra-dom stretched before me like a strand of spaghetti without the lover on the other end. If the first few bars of 'All by Myself' had kicked in at that moment – "When I was young / I never needed anyone" – I would have ended it right there, I swear it. When C eventually phoned, I was wandering the aisles of Scotmid buying washing powder, a crazed housewife without the valium.

It's my relationship's fault. Being with someone for five years has impinged on that other great love of my life: me. It's ridiculous and embarrassing but C has ruined my enjoyment of my own company.

Whenever I'm alone, all I blooming think is, 'Oh, that's an interesting cloud-formation – I wish C was here.' It's most annoying. I used to think people who were useless at being on their own were a bit silly and sad. Now, when I see these lonesome types across a quiet caf, texting furiously to try to get a pal to come out and relieve them of themselves, I see myself. Next time, I might ask if I can join them.