Living alone

Something hit me a couple of days ago, the fact that in my adult life I have only lived on my own for 15 months all in all.
I have lived in England for 13 years and am now living in property NR 12.

I moved from my parents house to England where i stayed in a hotel in London for 3 weeks.
I then met Sally who not only saved me from sleeping rough on Waterloo station, she also offered me a job as her nanny, so I moved in with her and her then fiance, Alex.
After living with them for 4 months I met M with whom I rented a flat next to the railway station.
We had only lived together for 2 months when our relationship fell apart and I moved back in with Sally, Alex and their baby boy Cameron.

They decided to relocate to the seaside and asked if I wanted to come with them?
At that point I was ready for something new so I moved as well.
We arrived on the 1st of may and through the summer we lived in a small 2 bedroom semi detached house.
It was at that point I felt it was time to find my own place so I moved into a small furnished flat on a quiet street in a little sleepy village which comes to life from mid June to end of august.
I made new friends and had a great time, I did however struggle a little bit financially so one of my friends, "L", suggested that I move in with her in her parents house since they lived abroad for 10 months of the year.
The house was HUGE and we had a great time but looking back on that time I think that L had some minor mental health problems.

She would tell me that the "rules" was not to bring boys home at all.
I thought it a bit weird because she had boys round most weekends, but I obeyed the "rules" since it was her parents house.
But when she started waking me up in the nights "To check if i was hiding boys under my bed" I started to feel uneasy (I tell you, if i had boys in my bedroom, I wouldn't keep them UNDER the bed..) and when she accused me of stealing money and jewelry from her parents I didn't have a choice but move out and luckily another friend of mine,"K", took pity on me and let me move in with her in her house that was still decorated in a 60's style with big, brown flowers on the wall paper.
We decided to decorate and got to work painting my bedroom blue and her bedroom yellow.
We didn't rip the wall paper down so the paint was slapped on very thick to cover up the big brown flowers...
I was dating a very handsome boy who looked like Enrique Iglesias and i was very much in love.
K didn't like him though, and I didn't like her boyfriend so we spent a lot of time in our own bedrooms, silent.
K said that she didn't like the atmosphere that I had brought to the house, she used to be happy, but wasn't anymore so obviously that was my fault.

I then fell pregnant which angered her, she didn't want a screaming baby in the house and asked me to move out straight away.
I had my first miscarriage the next day.

After spending some time at home with my parents I came back and moved in with Sally and Alex again, who had by now had a baby girl Bronwen.
I settled in the little room on the top floor and stayed there for 4 years.
Bronwen used to crawl up the stairs after me when i came home from work and we would listen to music, paint nails and dress her up in most of my necklaces and handbags.
When I passed my driving test we would drive to the big town and have lunch in Debenhams where she could pic and mix her own lunch box, we were the real "ladies who lunhces"

In 2004 Alexandra moved here from Sweden with her cat and we rented a flat together.
I loved that flat.
It had 2 bedrooms and a lounge/kitchen with a breakfast bar.
As Ive mentioned before, me and Alexandra went to college together, she taught me to drink home made vodka and how to hide it from your parents..
We are different as night and day, Alexandra is tidy, organised and a great cook.
And I'm not.
I would leave my knickers on the bathroom floor, forget pans on the stove and leave the TV on all night.
But our friendship is so strong that by now there is nothing that could "break us apart" even though we get annoyed with each other from time to time.

We lived in this lovely flat (with a roof garden where we would sunbathe when weather permitted) for 7 months, then Alexandra moved out to live with her lovely boyfriend who she had met in the pub across the road and have now been married to for 2 years.

So I stayed and lived in the flat on my own for a whole year.
Then I met Him, and He moved in.
Life was good, I was in love and this hunk of a man was in my bed every night.
For some reason I still don't understand, the flat was now too small..
It was not too small when I lived with Alexandra, but I guess boys have more "junk" than women..I.e big speakers x 6!, base for the DVD player/TV and all the cables...
Add to that a moped and a bicycle and the flat was crowded...

So we moved to a flat on the third floor, with MASSIVE rooms but no storage what so ever, we had panoramic views but the windows were old and drafty.
One night i fell over the carpet because it had no underlay and hadn't been stuck down to the floor, so when the air came rushing through the gaps in the windows, the carpet lifted about a foot off the floor and I tripped since i didn't turn the light on.
We lived there for 6 months then we had had enough of the draft and the smelly stairs.
So we moved to a flat on two floors, big kitchen and lots of storage.
It wasn't as cosy as the other places we lived and the area was awful, but I was still happy, until everything fell apart and we separated.

And I moved to property NR 12 where I still live for another 4 days.
It is a big lovely house and has suited me fine to get back on my feet and mend my broken heart.
I am now looking forward to the next move and getting in to my next flat where i will live on my own.
Put my touch on it and give it a feel of "me"
And this time I will put a few more months on my "Living on my own clock"